The Ghosts of You and Me
by Pooky1234
Summary: Summary: This is based on the film Random Harvest and written for reel torchwood. Jack Harkness loses his memory and finds Ianto Jones and is happy but events tear them apart. Can Ianto regain Jack's love and find true happiness?
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Ghosts of You and Me (Random Harvest)

Chapter 1 of 14

Words Total: 23,000

Fandom: Torchwood

Pairings: Jack/Ianto (in different ways), Owen/Tosh, Jack/Gwen

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Owen Harper, Gwen Cooper, Tosh Sato, Gray Harkness and others

Rating: PG-14

Spoilers: None

Warnings: some sexual content/references

Summary: This is based on the film Random Harvest which is set between the World Wars. I have updated it to the 21st century. Jack Harkness loses his memory and finds Ianto Jones and is happy but events tear them apart. Can Ianto regain Jack's love and find true happiness again?

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters as they belong to Russell T Davies and the BBC but I do get to play with them. I also do not own Random Harvest which is an MGM film based on the book by James Hilton. This is purely for entertainment purposes only.

**Chapter 1**

They found him on the corner of Queen Street, just down from the Castle, huddled in a doorway. His arms were hugging his legs as he rocked back and forth, babbling incoherently. He was dressed in black trousers, blue shirt, red braces and a grey greatcoat which the police described as somewhat unusual. His hair was dark brown and spiked up as was the fashion. He had piercing blue eyes, blue like the ocean, but they appeared to have no depth to them and they just stared into space as he rocked, talking to himself.

The previous night had been Bonfire Night; there had been a big display at the castle, with noise and lights all around, bangs and that fizzing noise that fireworks make before they explode. During the night many people had walked past and ignored him. In the morning the shopkeeper found him and couldn't move him on so he phoned the police.

Sergeant Andy Davidson tried to get the man to talk or to even respond to his presence. 'Come on, Sir, you can't stay here. One drink too many last night was it?' he asked, but the man didn't even acknowledge his presence. The Sergeant sent for back up and he and the constable put him in the van. By now the man was screaming and thrashing about in the cage so much the Sergeant worried that he would hurt himself. Once in the station they found the man had no ID. Obviously he'd been robbed while unable to defend himself, so they had no idea who this man was and it didn't appear that he was going to tell them anytime soon.

'He just sat there and babbled,' Andy said to the MO who came to examine him. 'He's clean and I can't smell drink on him but he's obviously suffered some sort of trauma.'

'No one's been reported missing then,' the Doctor said.

'Not that we can establish but he might not be missed yet. We can't keep him here, not like this. I think he needs to be in somewhere where people can keep an eye on him. He got a bit violent in the van, didn't like being in the cage one little bit,' Andy explained.

'I'll contact Providence Park,' the Doctor said, 'and get someone to put him in there. It'll be better than putting him on some ward in the Heath, not so anonymous.'

And so the man ended up in the psychiatric hospital in the old workhouse building, around which the massive new Heath Hospital had been built. Over the weeks he'd become calmer but he didn't talk at all; often all he did was stare out of the window. Sometimes he ate sparingly and at other times ravenously. He wouldn't watch the television but he loved listening to music, especially the old music of the 1940s and then he would hum along to Glenn Miller or Tommy Dorsey. They called him John Smith as they had no idea what else to call him.

Three months into his stay, he spoke his first words, only single words at first and then a little more, just enough to make himself understood, but he still said nothing about who he was.

'You're doing much better, Smithy,' Doctor Tanizaki said. 'It's been four months since you came here and we've got some visitors who would like to see you. Mr and Mrs Cameron have a son who is missing and we think you could be him.'

'My parents?' Smithy asked hesitantly. He still found it difficult to form sentences and he rarely looked anyone in the eye when he did speak. The Doctor noted that his hands were shaking at the prospect of meeting the couple who could be his parents.

He waited in a room; the wait seemed to last for ever until the door was opened. Smithy knew immediately, as soon as he saw the woman cry into her husband's chest, that he was not the man they wanted to see.

The next evening he left that place. Reception had been empty; usually the door was locked but he found it was open and simply walked out. It was foggy and the grass was damp as he walked across it. He'd put his greatcoat on to keep warm. He walked for a while, all the time speaking quietly to himself.

'I'm alright, thank you. Coat's very warm, thanks. I like to walk.' He walked down a long straight road, past houses and a small industrial estate. It was quiet and the fog made it seem darker than it should be. Then, out of the darkness, a horn blasted and the street was filled with people and cars. He panicked and ducked down a side street. There was a corner shop and he went inside just to get away. Behind the counter a youth stared at him as he stood there, looking at the shelves.

'Are you going to buy anything?' the youth asked.

He didn't notice the door open behind him. 'Evening, Jase,' he heard a voice say. It was a nice voice but Smithy remained staring at the shelves, not daring to turn around.

'I don't think he knows what he wants. What can I get you?'

'Just some gum please. It helps keep the vocal cords loose.'

'Right here you are. Oi you! Are you going to buy anything, because if you aren't, get out!' Jase shouted.

Smithy pushed open the door, walked for a bit and then found his legs were shaking too much to continue. He found himself sitting on a nearby bench. He knew he was breathing hard. He should go back; it was the only thing to do and then he felt someone sit next to him on the cold bench.

'Are you alright?' Can I help you? I thought you looked a little stressed so I followed you. You look tired.' Smithy looked at the man from the shop sitting next to him. He had a kind face.

Ianto Jones wondered what the hell he was doing. He was due back at the pub. Owen would be cursing him as they'd been planning a quick drink before that night's performance; that was how Owen liked to lubricate his vocal cords, but Ianto was struck by the sadness in the other man's eyes and somehow couldn't just leave him there. He noticed that his hands were buried deep into what looked like a services greatcoat. Ianto wondered if the man had been in Iraq or the Gulf or Ireland even.

'You look cold,' he said. 'How about you come with me to the pub for a drink to warm you up?' He put his arm through the arm of the other man and they walked to the Red Dragon nearby. Smithy wasn't sure what to do so he simply went along with the suggestion. The bar was busy but not crowded. Ianto looked around for Owen.

'Hey, Ianto,' a woman's voice shouted. 'Over here. Owen said to tell you that he'd see you there. Tosh has phoned.'

'I'm just getting a drink,' Ianto shouted back. 'That's Linda,' he explained to the bemused Smithy. 'She plays Mrs Johnson, the lead in the play I'm doing. I play her son, or one of them. I go insane every night on stage and end up shooting my brother - and then I'm shot!' Smithy looked at him with fear in his eyes.

'Sorry, that was a bit insensitive of me.' Ianto realised that they were close to the hospital and he wondered if that was where the man could have come from. Ianto had done some research on mental trauma for his role and knew that what was referred to as the local loony bin, was nearby. Ianto had been brought up not so far away himself, on the other side of the city, in Splott.

'Have a brandy, it'll warm you up,' he said and ordered the drink with his pint.

'Drop of the good stuff that,' the landlord said. 'It'll put hairs on your chest.' Ianto led him to a booth in the corner and Smithy swallowed the drink down quickly.

'Look,' Ianto said. 'I've got to get to the theatre soon.' He saw that the man's hand was shaking and put his over it. 'Sorry, it seems a bit churlish of me to just buy you a drink and then leave you like this.'

'I'll be alright,' Smithy said. Ianto noticed the slight American accent.

'I'm not so sure about that,' he replied, aware of the wariness in the other man's eyes. He looked so sad, Ianto thought. '_Oh God, why am I such a sucker for a good looking man with sad eyes?'_

'Listen, you could come to the show. You don't have to watch; you could just stay in my dressing room and listen to the songs.' He thought perhaps that the subject matter might not be a good idea if he was right about where the man had come from. He should call the police but for some reason he didn't want to. He didn't even know the man's name and hadn't introduced himself either, yet here he was inviting him to go with him to the theatre. It was undoubtedly a strange decision. Ianto didn't wait for an answer but grabbed the man by the elbow and hailed a taxi outside.

Once inside the dressing room in Cardiff's New Theatre, Ianto sat the other man down and began to get ready. Smithy sat there watching while Ianto prepared.

'We'll have a chat, shall we?' he said as he got dressed. 'I know it looks a bit strange dressing like this but we start off as schoolboys.'

Ianto continued to talk as Smithy considered the young man in front of him. He felt something he couldn't identify. The young man kept smiling at him as he dressed, not bothering to hide his body as he did so. He talked about the role he was playing in a musical called Blood Brothers. Smithy had no idea what it was about. They were a touring company apparently and they only had one place to go after this week. Smithy noticed the man's kind eyes were bluey grey in colour. He was smoothing down his hair which was rather reluctant to conform at that moment. He had good legs and strong calves, Smithy noticed, and then he realised that he'd been staring at his arse, clad in shorts, and that the young man had stopped talking

'Sorry, what did you say?' he asked.

'Oh it doesn't matter. I think I know where you're from,' Ianto replied.

'But's that the problem,' Smithy said. 'I don't know where I'm from. I've lost my memory. I don't even know who I am.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

'What do you mean?' Ianto smiled to reassure Smithy who smiled back. He realised that for some reason he felt safe with this young man who was so kind and so caring and seemed to be genuinely worried about him.

'Look, it doesn't matter,' Ianto continued. 'I think you're somebody awfully nice. What did they call you at that place? They must have given you a name.'

'Smith. It's not my real name,' he hastened to add. 'What's yours?'

'Jones, Ianto Jones, but that is my real name. My stage name is different. My agent thought that Ianto was too difficult to remember and Jones was too common so I have another name on stage. Look here, Smithy. You don't mind if I call you Smithy, do you? I don't think it's doing you any good being up there in Providence if you've only lost your memory. You don't look happy and how are you ever going to get better if you're unhappy?' It seemed simple to Ianto. For some reason he wanted the other man's smile to reach his eyes and fill his face, his rather stunningly gorgeous face. That Smithy didn't know who he really was intrigued Ianto. Smithy would be making himself anew and creating a role for himself and somehow Ianto knew that he wanted to help. He needed a cause, a reason, someone to care for. He'd been alone for too long and on the road for months now. It had been a hard role, going mad every night, killing his brother and Ianto was tired. There were a few auditions coming up for minor TV roles and some voice overs which paid surprisingly well. His Welsh accent got him a lot of this work and often paid the bills when acting roles dried up. Ianto knew that he was never going to be a star in Hollywood.

Smithy looked at him, confusion writ large over his face. 'But I don't know if I'm supposed to be happy! I've no idea what sort of a man I was before. All I know is that I was wearing this coat when they found me, but they checked the RAF records and I wasn't there. They thought I might be from Scotland but my accent varies and sometimes it's American so I could be from the States as well. I just don't know.'

'None of that matters, Smithy. We've met anyway, haven't we?' Smithy nodded unnerved by Ianto's enthusiasm for a man he'd just met. He watched as the young man got up and paced a bit as if he was trying to make a big decision.

'And you've no friends or parents that can be traced?' he said.

'Some people came to see me at the hospital, but I wasn't their son. They'd travelled a long way as well in the hope that I was.'

'I bet they were disappointed, weren't they?' Ianto said.

'Yes, I think so,' Smithy replied. 'I wonder what happened to him.' He looked down at his feet and then up again. 'I was disappointed too,' he admitted. Ianto reached out and took Smithy's hand in his. Smithy realised that it didn't feel strange to have another man touch him in this way as their eyes met before he turned away, unable to bear the other man's pity any longer.

'I'd have liked to belong to them,' he said. 'I'd like to belong to someone.'

Ianto felt the tears beginning to form.

'Damn,' he said 'Smithy, you're running my make-up.' He moved back to look in the mirror and applied more powder. 'We've been talking a while now. It's unusual for me to talk so much but I'm being a right chatterbox.'

'Alex Gillespie! Owen Harper! Stage please!' a voice cried out.

'That's me; I've got to go and perform now. You stay up here and watch if you want. You can see the stage from up here. Just put a chair outside and no one will bother you. Just don't go. I want you here when I finish. You'll be alright, won't you?' Ianto found that he couldn't bear the thought that Smithy wouldn't be there when he returned.

'Go, I'll be fine,' Smithy assured him.

'You look flushed and your head is hot,' Ianto said touching his forehead. His name was called again.

'Gotta go,' he said and he ran down the metal stairs.

Smithy listened as the overture was played. He found himself wondering what all the people looked like as he heard them sing. At the interval Ianto appeared again briefly. 'You look pale,' he said to Smithy. 'I think that you're coming down with something.'

'I'll be fine,' Smithy said. In truth he was feeling a little light headed. He heard the music start again and then nothing. At the end of the show Ianto returned to his dressing room to find Smithy passed out on the floor. He felt his head and realised that he was burning up. He yelled to the actor who played his brother on stage.

'Owen, get up here and give me a hand will you. I think he's fainted.'

'Who is he?' Owen asked as he got to the top of the stairs. 'Another one of your fans or are you trying to impress someone new?'

'I don't know who he is,' Ianto admitted, 'and he doesn't know either. Look, help me get him out and into a taxi. We'll get a doctor back at the B& B.'

'You and your strays, Ianto; you always have been a sucker for a pretty face,' Owen snarked.

'Yeah, I know, alright,' Ianto replied impatiently.

They got him up to Ianto's room and lay him on the bed. The Doctor arrived a little while later.

'He's got flu. The only thing to do is wait it out. He'll need looking after for a while and try to get him to eat some proper food as he could do with gaining a few pounds.'

Owen showed the doctor out and returned to the room where he found Ianto holding a cold cloth to Smithy's forehead.

'What are you going to do?' Owen asked. 'He needs someone to look after him. What about his family?'

'That's just it. I told you Owen, he's lost his memory and he has no idea who he is. He was in Providence Park and would have been discharged, except for not knowing who he was and having some speaking difficulties. You don't think they'll come after him, do you?'

'Not if he was just in there because of that. Are you sure you know what you're doing, Ianto?' Owen asked.

'No, not a clue, but haven't you ever done anything and not really understood why?' Ianto asked.

'Proposed to Tosh,' Owen said laughing.

'Yeah, that was a surprise, but I know why you did that. As to why she said yes, now that was truly astonishing.' Smithy stirred and moaned.

'I'll leave you to it,' Owen said. 'But be careful, and if you can't be careful be ….'

'I'm alright,' Smithy murmured drowsily. 'It's just that I can't always remember the words I need to use.' He started to try to get off the bed. Ianto sat down next to him and put his hand on Smithy's chest to stop him getting up.

'Rest now, Smithy. You need to rest and not talk,' he said calmly.

'I'm not like the others up there,' Smithy babbled. 'I'm alright; I'm not like them.'

'Yes, Smithy,' Ianto assured him, pressing the cloth to his forehead again. 'You're alright; I know you are.'

'I can't go back,' Smithy said, his eyes wide with fear. 'If I go back I'll never come out and I'll go mad just being there. I'll end up like some of the others.'

Ianto tried to calm him. 'You won't have to go back, Smithy; it's alright, I won't let you go back. Rest now, Smithy and don't worry. Just go to sleep.'

As the older man closed his eyes, Ianto leaned forward and kissed his forehead gently. He sat and thought about what to do. He had a few days left in Cardiff and then there was one more week of the tour left...

Every day after that night Smithy got stronger. Good food, warmth and company helped. Ianto told him all about the people in the show, especially about Owen Harper, his best friend and Owen's fiancée, Tosh Sato. He noticed that Smithy had begun to talk more now he was stronger and less stressed. At lunchtime on Saturday Ianto finished packing their bags, not that Smithy had much to pack. He'd persuaded him to come with him for the last week.

'I had a chat to the chambermaid today,' Smithy said. 'We talked about the weather. Spring is coming isn't it?'

'Yes, it'll soon be summer,' Ianto said.

'Ianto?'

'Yes Smithy.'

'You're sure I can be useful, aren't you? Your manager isn't just taking me on because you asked him to, is he?'

'Bloody hell, you don't know John Hart! He's as hard as nails, that one. You can take my word for it. The whole thing was his idea,' Ianto assured him. There was the issue that John obviously fancied getting into Smithy's trousers to deal with but Ianto had warned Hart that the man was too fragile to mess around.

'I can't tell you what this means, Ianto, to be someone again, to be wanted. It's all your doing.'

'Oh Smithy, it's alright. Anyone would have done the same. Don't go on. My Smithy, once you start talking there's no stopping you, is there? I'll just pop down and get us something to eat before we go.'

And with that Ianto left the room, leaving Smithy to ponder what would happen to him next.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

John Hart, the company's director, was sitting in a booth in the pub round the corner, nursing a G&T when Ianto got there.

'Give him the good news, did you?' he asked.

'Yes, John, and thank you.' Ianto had to admit that it was unusual for Hart to be so generous.

'Well, I'm sure that you can both find a way to be suitably grateful,' Hart said pointedly. Ianto frowned and Hart laughed.

'Your face!' he said. 'Don't worry; as lovely as both your arses are, I've got bigger fish to fry. You know the lovely young actor playing Marius on the Les Mis tour? Well, he's been getting the benefit of my experience.' Hart went on to explain, in lurid detail, all that they had got up to recently.

'God, he has such a talented tongue that one! No wonder he sings so well. His throat certainly got a lot of lubrication from me!'

As they were speaking someone else came into the bar. The landlord nodded to him. 'Hi Ted, don't get you in here very often these days. What'll it be?'

'Just a half of Brains please; I have to keep my wits about me at the moment. I got distracted a few nights back and one of 'em walked out into the fog.'

Ianto tried not to look concerned but knew the man must be talking about Smithy, as did John Hart.

'What sort of bloke was he?' Hart asked casually. 'Not dangerous, I hope?'

'He was tall with dark hair and had trouble speaking. He'd probably be wearing a greatcoat. Who knows how far he could get without money or clothes? We expected to have found him by now.'

Ianto got the sandwiches he'd ordered and moved towards the door still listening to the conversation.

'As for dangerous, he didn't seem to be. He'd never caused any trouble but you never know with these loonies, do you? He could turn just like that.'

Ianto saw John taking all this in and began to worry that John wouldn't take Smithy if he thought he was dangerous, no matter how good looking he was; it was simply too risky. By the time he got back to the hotel Ianto was beginning to have serious doubts himself. As he went into their room Smithy got up. 'It's time isn't it? I'm all packed.'

'Sit down, Smithy,' Ianto said quietly.

'What is it? What's wrong?' Smithy asked, sensing that something was different. He noticed that Ianto was wringing his hands.

'I don't think John will want to take you anymore. There was this man from Providence in the bar. He mentioned that you'd escaped.' Ianto hesitated for a moment. 'Look, Smithy, perhaps it would be better if you went back. They can treat you properly there and help you to get your memory back.'

Ianto thought his heart would break as he looked at the expression on Smithy's face.

'Go back! You mean you don't want me to go with you anymore?' he said.

'It's for the best, Smithy. I'm just an actor. I don't know anything about psychiatry or mental illness. I was just being naïve thinking that I could help you.' Ianto tried to explain but he felt like he was kicking a puppy.

'I'm sorry Smithy, I feel awful but it's for your sake. It really is!' He put his hand on Smithy's, but the other man snatched it away immediately, wrapping his arms around himself.

'I know what John will say. He'll say that I have no right to take you away from there; that I don't know anything about you or your condition or what your needs are. I'm so sorry but I was wrong to get your hopes up. I could be risking your sanity, your life even. You do understand, don't you?' he pleaded. 'Please don't be angry with me.' Ianto couldn't understand why it was so important that Smithy didn't hate him. Why after only a few days did he feel this way? Did he love the man in front of him? He cared for him certainly, that much was obvious, and just being near him was sometimes exciting. All he'd done was sometimes put his arms around him, to hold him through the tears when he'd had nightmares and woken up shouting and crying incoherently. They'd both chosen to ignore the physical reactions they'd had to those hugs.

'I just know that they're all going to be against me, Smithy, and, well, if I didn't think it was for the best, I wouldn't suggest it.' Ianto couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Smithy had closed up, his face was impassive, and he stared at his feet, his arms crossed protecting himself. Ianto tried to get him to meet his eyes and acknowledge his presence in the room.

'Smithy, please speak to me. You know you've always been able to speak to me.' Finally, the older man lifted his head. His face was a picture of sadness.

'I thought that you wanted me with you. What did I do wrong?' he asked.

'Nothing,' Ianto replied. Thoughts began to run around in his mind. Could he really do this? 'Wait there for me, Smithy. I have to do something.' He got up and hurried out of the door.

Smithy waited in silence not knowing what to think until Ianto burst back into the room carrying his case.

'Come on, Smithy. I know I'm right. I'm ashamed that I let my fear almost talk me out of it. We won't go with the others. We'll find some quiet place where you can rest and get fit. My understudy can finish the tour; it's only a week after all. Come on, we'll go out the back way. Just wait a minute by the back door while I go and pay the bill.'

They went down the stairs and Smithy did as he was told and waited in the back room. By the time Ianto had come back a few minutes had passed. He pushed open the door to see Smithy standing there with John Hart lying at his feet.

'Did he try to stop you?' Ianto asked, panicking slightly. He knelt down and pressed a finger to Hart's neck. He could feel a pulse. At least he wasn't dead.

'He tried to pull me away but you'd told me to stay here, so I pushed him and he fell,' Smithy explained.

Ianto grabbed him and began to push him through the back door. 'Come on, we need to go,' he said.

'But...,' Smithy replied, looking at the man on the floor.

'Come on; if we don't go now, they'll lock you up again.'

'Maybe they were right,' Smithy said. 'Perhaps I am dangerous. You should let me alone.'

'No, I won't,' Ianto replied. 'Just leave him. I'm sure he'll be fine. We'll call someone when we're out of here just to check.'

Out in the car park Ianto used the keys he'd taken from Owen's room and started his car. He had a vague idea that he would head into Pembrokeshire. He'd ring when they'd got far enough. Owen wouldn't say anything he was sure. He'd tell them that he was ill and that he had no idea where Smithy was, that he'd just disappeared. As he set off, he just hoped that Owen would understand and that Hart would be alright.

'We'll go down to Pembroke,' he said. 'I'll find us somewhere quiet, off the beaten track, and keep you out of sight for a while. I have a few small jobs in the pipeline that will keep us going. I'll ring Owen about the car; he'll understand.'

After a few hours they stopped for petrol and Ianto made the call to Owen Harper. He really needed to find out if Hart was injured.

'Owen, it's me,' he got out before the other man shouted down the phone.

'Jones, where the hell are you? Hart's screaming blue murder. He says that Smithy tried to kill him!'

'So he's alright then,' Ianto said, breathing a sigh of relief.

'Yes, of course he is; it's hard to damage a skull that thick. Have you got my car?' Owen asked.

'Yeah, sorry, we had to get out quickly. I need you to keep quiet about it. Tell them I'm ill, will you, and that Smithy did a runner? Jase will go on for me for the last week. I just need to get Smithy away from things. See if you can persuade Hart not to make a complaint. I'm sure that he doesn't want some of his activities to hit the papers,' Ianto said.

'Are you telling me to blackmail him?' Owen asked. 'You know I'll help you mate, but are you sure that this bloke isn't dangerous? I've never seen you like this before. What is it about him? I know that you've dabbled in the past, but not like this. It's almost as if you've fallen for him. You haven't, have you?'

'I don't know, Owen. I can't explain it. It's just him. There's something that makes me want to protect and take care of him. I'll let you know when we've found somewhere. Speak to Hart, please. He owes me and he knows it.'

'Alright, I'll do my best but take care,' Owen said.

Ianto was touched that Owen sounded genuinely worried. 'I will; I promise,' Ianto replied.

They drove on until it was beginning to get dark. Finally they arrived in the small coastal village of St Illtyd Fach.

'It's like the end of the world down here,' Ianto said. We'll try that B&B over there as it says they've got vacancies and then see if we can find somewhere to rent. Hopefully, they won't have a problem with us sharing if we ask for a twin. I'll tell them that you've been ill and we're down here for your health.'

They went into the small B&B. As the doorbell rang a youngish woman appeared from a room off the small reception area.

'Are you looking for rooms?' she asked

'Yes please,' Ianto said. 'Do you have a twin? My friend has been ill recently and I don't like to leave him on his own.'

'He does look tired. Has he had this awful flu that's going around? I've a lovely room at the back. It has a sea view and, if you're looking for somewhere to stay for longer, we have a cottage a bit further down that's vacant. I can get it ready for tomorrow for you.'

'See Smithy, I told you things would be fine. That would be fantastic,' he said. Smithy suddenly began to sag next to him and Ianto sat him down. The woman handed over the room key. 'It's just up the stairs and to the left, en suite, of course. I'm around tonight or my partner, Alice.' Ianto's eyebrows rose.

'It's Jenny, by the way. Let me know if there's anything you need to eat. There's a good pub just along the road or if your friend isn't well, one of us will nip out to the local chippy for you. Both of you look as if you could do with a rest. There's tea and coffee in the room and some biscuits to be going on with.'

'Thank you,' Ianto said. 'You've been very kind.'

'That's no problem. Alice will sort the cottage for you by mid-morning tomorrow. You go and rest. The singles push together if you want.'

Ianto grinned knowing that they hadn't fooled her for a minute. 'Come on Smithy, we can get some rest and then something to eat. Tomorrow we can have a look at the cottage. We'll be fine here, I think. I can go up to Cardiff if I need to and you can stay here and get better.'

Ianto helped him up the stairs. Just outside the room, Smithy stopped him.

'As long as I'm not putting on you. That man is alright, isn't he? You're not lying to me.' Ianto put his hand on his heart. 'No, he's fine. John Hart is as hard as nails and Owen will make sure he doesn't say anything,' Ianto explained. He opened the door.

'Time for a bit of a rest; come on, stop worrying.' A half smile crossed Smithy's lips and Ianto felt his heart leap a little. He didn't understand why but getting Smithy happy and healthy was the only thing that mattered to him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The cottage turned out to be perfect. It overlooked the sea and was situated just behind the B&B. It had white painted walls and a white picket fence and gate; it would even have roses around the door in the summer. There were two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and a bathroom. The living room had French doors which opened onto a small walled garden and gave a view of the beach below. There was a path that led down to the sea and Smithy spent a lot of time walking along the beach.

After a few days Ianto felt secure enough to leave Smithy on his own for a while. Owen had found him a car and was bringing it down to Tenby. He'd confirmed that everything was alright over the phone and that Hart hadn't blackened his name.

Ianto arrived at the pub first and ordered some drinks. Owen appeared about ten minutes later and allowed Ianto to hug him for a moment. They chose something for lunch and then sat down at the back of the eating area.

Not one for small talk Owen began his questions immediately. 'D'you know what you're doing, Ianto?' he asked. 'You've taken a lot on considering that you've only known him – what? Ten days? I've never seen you like this before, not even with Lisa.'

'I know,' Ianto said quietly. 'Don't ask me to explain. It's just that he needs me and I want to help him. He intrigues me. He has absolutely no idea who he really is.'

'Ianto, do you fancy him? I mean he's a good looking bloke, even I can see that and, as I said before, you've been known to dabble in the past.'

'So have you, Owen, so you can get off your high horse!' Ianto said, suddenly annoyed with his friend.

'Hey, that was only to get a part and I didn't get it anyway. I obviously wasn't up to scratch,' Owen replied indignantly.

'Anyway, it's not that simple, Owen. I have feelings for him and yes he's bloody gorgeous and he's so – oh I don't know, nice. We've cuddled a bit and I've kissed him but we've not kissed each other in that way.' He looked rather embarrassed for a moment. 'We have sort of slept together. He has these nightmares. I think he might have been in the services and his nightmares are about what happened. He does have that greatcoat after all.'

'Anyone can buy one of those in an Army and Navy store,' Owen pointed out.

'Yes I know, but some of the things he shouts when he has the nightmares are about guns and death and there's a name he mentions a lot – Angelo. It sounds like the bloke is injured or killed. When he has these nightmares, I get into bed with him and hold him until he goes back to sleep. I like it, Owen; I like him lying in my arms and I stroke his hair.' He saw Owen's face. 'Sorry, too much information, I suppose, for your delicate senses to cope with. It's just that I've no one else to tell, Owen.'

'So what's this place you're staying in like then?' Owen said, changing the subject.

'It's lovely; the whole village is lovely. Alice and Jenny own the B&B and they've rented us the cottage. We're lucky that they were going to have it renovated so it wasn't being rented out this year. We'll be able to stay there a while. The view of the beach is wonderful and Smithy likes to go walking along it. I'm thinking of getting a dog. I think a pet would be great for him. There must be a local Dog's Trust branch somewhere around here. It would give him someone to look after and company for when I have to leave him for work.'

'Are you alright for money?' Owen asked.

'Yeah, you know me, I'm pretty careful. I haven't spent much of the money from the tour and I've a few auditions for guest parts and voice overs in the pipeline. I'll just not be able to take anything long term until he's stronger and we find out where we're going.'

'Ianto, have you thought about trying to find out who he really is? He might get his memory back and then what will you do. He could be married for all you know. You could be heading for heartache here,' Owen pointed out.

'I figure that they must have tried to find out who he was. Smithy said that they brought this couple to see him. He has this strange dual accent thing. Sometimes he speaks in a Scottish accent and sometimes American, so I reckon that he must have lived in both places. Truth is, Owen, I just want him to be Smithy; I like Smithy. There's no side to him. He says what he thinks.'

'You're falling in love with him, aren't you?' Owen said.

'I don't know.' Ianto looked directly at Owen and swallowed some of his pint. 'Well, maybe a little but I'm not going to push him. I've no real idea as to whether he's gay or straight. He seems to like me being near him but I haven't pushed him into anything. Look, thanks for the car and everything. I owe you as always. Have you got anything lined up?'

'There's this audition for Casualty. They want me to play a doctor but they're not sure how big a part it's going to be yet. Imagine me playing a doctor. I'll have to do all the gore and stuff if I'm a surgeon.'

They ate their food and continued talking about things until Owen had to go.

'Look, Ianto, take care of yourself will you, and keep in touch and, well you know.' Ianto pulled him into a hug.

'You're a good man, Owen Harper, even if you try to disguise it and Tosh is a lucky woman.'

'I know, I keep telling her that,' he said. In the car park they got into their cars and went off in different directions, without really knowing how things might change for both of them.


	5. Chapter 5

** This is a PGish version of this chapter the original can be found on my livejournal page or on AO3. The addresses for both are on my profile**.

**Chapter 5**

A few months went by and Smithy got stronger as every day passed. It was now summer and the days were warm. Jenny had decided to put off decorating the cottage so they were able to stay there. When Ianto came home that July day from his secret shopping trip, he found Smithy sat at the desk tapping away at his computer. 'What are you doing,' he asked leaning over Smithy's shoulder and resisting the temptation to kiss the back of Smithy's neck where a few hairs curled. '_He needs a haircut again_,' Ianto thought. '_His hair seems to grow so quickly but there's no sign that he's losing any yet.' _He wondered for a moment just how old Smithy was; older than him certainly, possibly even ten years older, not that it mattered. He read what Smithy had written.

'It's a story; you're writing a story,' he said.

'There's a competition in the Radio Times,' Smithy said. 'I thought I'd try. You have to write a 1000 word outline for a Doctor Who story. I'm going to send it in and wait and see.'

Ianto pondered what the heck was wrong with him as he felt himself welling up with pride that Smithy was writing.

'I wonder if you were a writer before,' he speculated.

'Maybe, I don't know, but I'm enjoying this. It's fun thinking up new aliens to take on the Doctor.'

'I've got something to show you,' Ianto said. 'Come on, leave your aliens for a minute.'

'What is it?' Smithy asked. Ianto took his hand and led him into the kitchen. On the table was a box. It was moving and making noises. Smithy looked at Ianto.

'Is it?' he asked excitedly. He opened the box and the smile that crossed his lips made Ianto grin too.

'It is! Oh Ianto, she's beautiful!' He picked up the puppy who wriggled in his arms.

'I saw that you liked this breed when we were watching that programme. She'll keep you company when I have to go away for work and you can walk her along the beach.' Smithy laughed as the puppy began to clean his face.

'Stop it, Myfanwy. I've had a wash this morning. She's beautiful, Ianto.'

The Spaniel puppy indicated that she wanted to go down and explore so Smithy put her on the floor.

'Thank you so much. I'll look after her, I promise, and clean up when she messes,' Smithy said.

'I know you will,' Ianto replied. All at once he found himself enveloped in a large bear hug and Ianto let himself enjoy the sensation of being in the other man's arms. Smithy pulled back and looked at him as if he was seeing him for the first time. He leant forward and Ianto found lips pressed against his own as Smithy kissed him. It was the last thing that Ianto had expected but now his heart was threatening to leap out of his chest. When they broke apart Smithy said nothing but went looking for Myfanwy who'd run off to explore the house. Ianto put his fingers to his lips, touching where Smithy had kissed seconds before. He sat on the chair and realisation hit him between the eyes. He loved Smithy, truly loved him. He had no idea if the other man had any feelings for him but the kiss was a start, wasn't it? It was the first time that Smithy had kissed him. Perhaps, given time, there would be more kisses and hugs and … well Ianto could dream, couldn't he? Ianto had felt his body responding and just hoped that Smithy would feel the same.

That summer the days were hot and the nights warm and sticky; thankfully this night there was at least a breeze from the sea and the bedroom curtain wafted back and forth. It was then that he heard the screams come from the room next door. Ianto jumped up and rushed in. He found Smithy wide eyed and thrashing about. His eyes were open but they weren't seeing the room he was in. Ianto tried to wake him.

'Smithy, Smithy, it's okay, you're safe. Whatever it is, it's gone. You're with me. I won't let anyone harm you.'

'Ianto?' Smithy said cautiously.

'Yes Smithy, it's me. It's okay.' Ianto tried to reassure him.

'There were bodies, Ianto, and blood and noise. I was trying to drag a man away. There was sand and it was hot. What does it mean? Was I dreaming or remembering?'

'I don't know,' Ianto said. 'Come on, try to get some sleep.'

'Stay with me, please,' Smithy said.

'Alright, budge over then.' Smithy moved across the double bed and Ianto realised that he was naked under the sheet. He lay down facing the older man and put his arm out so Smithy could rest his head on his chest. It felt good being this close. Smithy put his arm over Ianto who put his around the other man so that they were holding each other. He could feel Smithy's interest pressing into his thigh and wondered if the other man realised.

'Ianto?'

'Yes, Smithy.'

'You know when you bought Myfanwy?'

'Yes, what about it?' Ianto asked.

Smithy looked up all wide eyed and Ianto's heart skipped a beat. His stomach felt like a thousand butterflies had just been released within it.

'I kissed you,' he said.

'Yes, you did. It was nice. Why?'

'I liked it. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to but the other night when you had to go away I watched this programme on the TV and there were two men kissing; usually when you watch the TV its men and women who kiss. I know I've seen Jenny and Alice, but I didn't know if it was alright because I couldn't remember if I'd kissed anyone before.'

'Would you like to kiss me again?' Ianto asked. Smithy nodded. Ianto lifted his chin and pressed his lips gently at first and he probed with his tongue until he felt Smithy's lips part. They turned heads but kept the contact. Ianto probed the other man's mouth until their tongues met. By this time Ianto's hand was caressing Smithy, while his hand stayed firmly on Ianto's chest. After a while Smithy pushed his tongue to meet Ianto's. Now Ianto could feel Smithy rubbing himself on his thigh. He groaned under Ianto's kiss. They broke apart slowly.

'Smithy, just lie on your back a moment.' The other man did as he was told. Ianto kissed his chest, licking around one nipple. Smithy groaned again.

'D'you like that?' Ianto asked.

Smithy nodded. 'It feels good.'

Ianto moved his hand further down until he made contact with who continued to groan and arched his hips upwards. Ianto checked that he was alright; he didn't want to push Smithy into anything he didn't want to do. He had no idea what sort of sex life Smithy had had before they'd met. He was too good looking to be a virgin at his age surely, but whether he'd had sex with a man was another question. Ianto was going to take things very slowly. As they explored each other both men discovered things about each other. Ianto was astonished that Smithy seemed to know exactly what he was doing; in fact Ianto would go so far as to say that he was an expert at some things. He looked down at the trail of bruises Smithy had left across his as the other man snored lightly next to him. He looked more peaceful than Ianto had ever seen him before and he pulled him closer. They would need to discuss this at some point as it took their relationship to a completely new level and Ianto wasn't sure whether this was a good thing. He knew it was what he wanted but Smithy still had no idea who he was.

The older man suddenly opened his eyes and looked at Ianto who felt himself blushing under the somewhat lustful gaze.

'So you think we could try it again sometime?' Smithy said. 'Not now as I'm a bit sleepy, but sometime?'

'Oh yes,' Ianto replied enthusiastically. 'I think trying it again is very much something I'd like.' They settled down with Ianto spooned behind Smithy. He couldn't remember ever feeling happier in his life.


	6. Chapter 6

There is a M rated version of this chapter on my LJ and AO3 pages. The addresses are on my profile. I'd love to hear from you about this story.

**Chapter 6**

The next morning Ianto made coffee; he was planning to surprise Smithy with breakfast in bed. As he waited for the toast he felt strong arms surrounding him and lips caressing the back of his neck. His body responded instantly.

'I was going to bring this up,' he said.

'It's too nice for that. Let's sit outside,' Smithy replied. It was the first time that Smithy had made any suggestions, but what had happened between them seemed to have given him more confidence.

'Alright, if you like; any plans for today? We could do with shopping for food and then this afternoon we could go swimming in the sea and get some sun on that pale flesh of yours.'

'You can talk; you're not exactly brown yourself!' He lifted Ianto's t-shirt and gasped.

'Sorry, did I do that to you?' he asked, seeing the line of small bruises down Ianto's chest. He looked worried so Ianto pulled him into a hug.

'It's okay, I kinda like it. It makes me feel like I belong to someone.'

'You're sure it's alright?' Smithy asked.

'Yes, stop worrying, I'm sure. I've fancied you from the moment we met. You are quite gorgeous, you know,' Ianto confessed.

'Why didn't you say you liked me?' Smithy questioned.

'It would have been wrong to take advantage of you,' Ianto explained. 'We don't know what relationships you had in the past, although I don't think that you're a stranger to some activities,' Ianto said, raising his eyebrows.

'I've no idea. I just knew I wanted to,' Smithy said. 'I like being with you, Ianto and I liked what we did.' He swallowed some coffee. 'And you make the most amazing coffee.'

'Thank you, kind Sir. Now come on, we need to do some shopping and you could do with some new swimming trunks.'

A week later Ianto got back to find the post on the floor and a note from Smithy to say that he was walking Myfanwy on the beach. Ianto noticed the publishers' name on the envelope. Smithy had submitted a short story to an anthology a couple of weeks before. This could mean good news or bad. He grabbed the envelope and went to find Smithy. It was a truly glorious day and there were a few people on the beach. He could see Myfanwy running around but he couldn't see Smithy. He ran down the path and smiled when he saw him sitting with his back against a rock, eyes closed, with his book open on his lap. He looked stunning and Ianto wished he'd brought the camera with him to capture the moment. He walked up to him and stood quietly, holding the letter up to the light.

'If I were you, I'd open it,' Smithy said. Ianto stood down beside him.

'You cheat! I thought you were asleep,' Ianto said. He couldn't help noticing that Smithy's skin was now getting a bit of a tan. 'It's from the publishers,' he said excitedly.

'Yes, I suppose it could be,' Smithy said, feigning indifference.

'Oh for pity's sake Smithy, open it!' Ianto said. Smithy stuck a finger in the envelope and pulled across. He unfolded the letter and smiled.

'Come on, tell me,' Ianto said.

'They're going to publish it in the anthology,' Smithy said. 'And there's a small cheque. I think I might frame it, my first payment as a writer. My head is buzzing with ideas for stories,' he said, pulling the Welshman into a hug. Ianto kissed him.

'Who knows? Perhaps one day you'll write a story and I'll be the star in the film.' Smithy positively beamed with pleasure.

'Ianto, you know Jenny and Alice are having a civil partnership now it's legal. What d'you think?'

'About civil partnerships?' Ianto asked.

'Yes. It's just that I was wondering how you felt about it because …..' He took Ianto's hand. 'Because I'm in love with you, Ianto, and I'm hoping that you feel the same about me.'

'Oh Smithy, you know I love you. How could I not?'

'So should we do the same?' Smithy asked 'I know that there are problems but I'd like to. I don't want anyone there really but I want to marry you, if that's the right word. Will you, Ianto? Will you marry me?'

Ianto felt such a sad soppy idiot when tears pricked his eyes. 'Are you sure, Smithy?'

'I want this more than anything else in the world. My life began again with you. I can't imagine a future without you.'

'Then yes Smithy, if we can sort it I'd love to marry you. Nothing in the world would make me happier. I could ask Owen and Tosh to come down to be witnesses. We'll need to contact the registry office and ask what we have to do and when they have a slot.' Smithy pulled Ianto into a hug and then they lay on the sand together, Ianto's head resting on the other man's lap. They heard a wolf whistle and pulled apart to see a young couple from the village walking by.

'Get a room, you two!' Dafydd shouted.

'We've just got engaged,' Smithy shouted back, 'if that's the right description.'

'Congratulations,' Annie said. 'I hope we get invited to the party.'

The couple walked on and then Myfanwy appeared and crashed into them as they sat there, shaking wet sand everywhere.

They were astonished that there was a cancellation a couple of weeks later. After some frantic action to make arrangements the day was sorted. Tosh and Owen came down to be witnesses and they had a quick ceremony which was really just signing the register in the office at Milford Haven. The four of them had lunch together and spent the afternoon talking about old times and current events. Back in the local pub that night they had a party for a small gathering of locals.

'You two look so handsome today,' Tosh said. They were dressed in suits, not matching ones as both thought that might be just a little too kitsch. They'd even managed to get Owen to wear a suit for the day.

'You look so happy the pair of you,' Tosh continued. Ianto and Smithy looked at each other and smiled. 'We are,' Ianto said, kissing his partner. Owen pulled a face.

'Oh shut up, Mr Grumpypants,' Ianto said, planting a kiss on the end of his nose. 'And get the champagne open so we can do the toast and you can do your speech. You are doing a speech aren't you?'

'Oh yes I certainly am,' Owen said.

'Give me a minute then I just need to pay a visit,' Ianto said.

Smithy sat back for a moment and watched Ianto leave the room. So much had happened in the last few months. He was so happy; he had friends, he'd sold a few more stories and he had someone who adored him and who he adored. Whatever his life had been before this he knew that it couldn't have been any better or happier than this. He was the luckiest man in the world.

They listened to Owen doing his speech and afterwards argued about which of them was going to speak. Both had bought each other gifts. Ianto gave Smithy a beautiful antique silver frame for his first cheque which was engraved on the back. When Ianto opened his box he gasped and wondered how Smithy had managed to find it. Nestling in a sea of red velvet was an old fashioned stopwatch with a button on the top and a chain. On the cover there was a dragon and engraved inside were I and J intertwined.

'Time for the first dance,' Tosh said to the crowd, 'and some might say it's a bit predictable but blame them. Ianto and Smithy! Get on your feet and dance to your choice!' From the speakers the sound of '_Wind beneath my Wings'_ echoed around the room. Ianto pulled Smithy up and they danced away through the song as others eventually joined them.

The rest of the night went by in a blur of dancing and more champagne. At 11.30 they slipped away from the party. Owen and Tosh were staying at the B&B, leaving Jack and Ianto to themselves in the cottage. They undressed each other kissing and touching each other as each piece of clothing was removed. Ianto kissed down the other man's chest. Smithy stopped him just as he was running his tongue around his partner's navel which always made him squirm.

'Ianto, will you make love to me properly?' he asked shyly. 'We've never …. Bloody hell, Ianto! This shouldn't be so difficult to say.'

'What is it, Smithy? You know that you can tell me anything,' Ianto said.

Suddenly catching on to what Smithy wanted the Welshman sat up in bed and looked at him. They'd never talked about it before and Ianto hadn't wanted to push him. Ianto didn't care who did what.

'Are you sure?' he asked.

'Yes, Ianto; I may have lost my memory but I know what men do with each other. I've no idea whether I've done it before but I want to feel you inside me.

Ianto laughed. 'You've been planning this a while then,' he teased as Smithy blushed. 'I assume you used the Internet to find out what to do?' he continued.

Smithy nodded.

'Okay then. I'm not sure this is going to be the most romantic occasion ever,' he said. He kissed Smithy and pushed his tongue in forcefully; the other man responded in kind. Ianto lay on top of Smithy.

Over the next two hours they explored everything was to discover about each other. Fingers touched skin. Tongues relished all that there was to taste. Their bodies met and became one for the first time. It was a night both of them would remember forever.

'That was sensational,' Ianto said. 'I love you so much, Smithy. This has been the best day of my life.' Smithy wondered briefly if there had been any better days in his. He couldn't imagine feeling any better than this ever.

'I love you too, Ianto Jones. You saved me. You've made me so happy.' Soon afterwards both men fell into a deep, contented sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

A few days later both men were sitting at the kitchen table; Smithy was proofing his latest short story and Ianto was looking at his e-mails and scanning the pages of _The Stage_, online. As he did an e-mail popped up from Owen.

'Oh wow! Owen says that they want me for a few days on _Casualty_. It would mean me going to Bristol for a little while.' So far he'd managed to get back home every night but this would be the first time that he'd have to stay away.

'Ianto, it's alright, you're an actor. You've given up a few roles to look after me.' Ianto went to protest, but Smithy stopped him.

'No, don't, I know you turned down a tour. We're not made of money so this will help. I'm hardly going to be a millionaire from these stories!'

Ianto smiled at him. 'Maybe someday; you never know.' He got up to pick up the post. It was mostly bills except for one envelope. He gave it to Smithy.

'It's got BBC on the envelope,' he said excitedly. 'It must be that competition. I'd given up on it.'

'Open it then,' Ianto said, impatiently.

Smithy unfolded the letter. 'I don't believe it. I've won! They want me to go to London to discuss filming it for Comic Relief. I'm going to meet the new Doctor, David Tennant, and Russell T. Davies!'

'What? That's wonderful! When do you have to go?' Ianto asked. 'I might come up to London with you.'

'It's next week. On the 30th, which is Friday morning. I'll have to go down on Thursday and stay overnight.'

'Damn! That's when I'm filming in Bristol.' Smithy stretched out his hand and rested it on Ianto's.

'I can manage you know. It'll be fine. I'll stay in a hotel near the BBC. I'm so much better now because of you. It'll be good for me.'

'I know,' Ianto said, 'but …'

'It's the first night we've spent apart,' Smithy said, finishing Ianto's sentence.

'Yeah, it is. I know I'm being a mother hen.'

'And David Tennant is very good looking, if you like them tall and skinny, so I can understand your concern.' He grinned at Ianto, who pulled him into a hug and kissed him hard.

'Well,' he said, dragging Smithy up the narrow stairs. 'You'd better prove how much you're going to miss me then.'

Next Thursday came very quickly. They got the train together as far as Bristol; Owen was going to meet Ianto at Temple Meads. Smithy leaned out of the window as Ianto stood on the platform.

'You promise me you'll be careful,' Ianto said. 'And ring me when you get to the hotel. I need to know that you're safe.'

'I will; don't worry Ianto, I'll be fine.' Conscious that there were still people around Smithy leant down and kissed Ianto briefly.

'I'll see you back home on Sunday, alright. The filming should be over by then. If they like me there may be more work as I don't think this character is being killed off.' The guard blew his whistle and the train began to move.

'I love you Smithy, and remember! Keep your hands off David Tennant!'

Ianto waved the train off and then walked to the entrance. Owen was sitting in the café, clutching a plastic cup of coffee. He got up when he saw Ianto.

'Come on, Jones; we need to get on set. Okay, was he?'

'Yeah, but I can't help worry. It's the first time that we've been apart in over six months.'

'He'll be fine,' Owen assured him. 'Now come on! My car is outside and you're going to need some make up. It seems that the director saw you in _Blood Brothers_ and was impressed with your ability to have a mental breakdown every night. You've read the script, haven't you?'

'Yes, of course I have. I am a professional. I see that my character is gay,' Ianto added.

'Well, you'll be fine with that, won't you?' Owen asked.

'As long as I don't have to kiss you I will!' Ianto explained.

'No chance of that. I'm the hospital bad guy who is about to seduce one of the nurses and give her a hard time.'

'Type cast again then, Owen! Tosh alright, is she?'

'Yeah, she's great. She's up in the Midlands at the moment sorting out some firm's IT systems. Right, we're here. Don't let me down, Ianto; I told them that you were good.'

A few hours later Smithy pulled into Paddington Station. He found a taxi and signed in at the hotel. It was a small place not far from the television centre where he was due to have a meeting at 9 the following morning. He had dinner in the restaurant next door that night. It was one of a chain and not too expensive for London. It felt strange to be out on his own. He'd wondered if anything would be familiar to him, but so far there was nothing. He woke up early the next day; it was sunny and too early for breakfast. He could hear the traffic in the street below; he wasn't used to that, living in the countryside. He decided to go out to get a paper and left his stuff in the hotel for safekeeping. There was a shop nearby and he bought a copy of the _Guardian._ The story on the front page caught his eye and he began to read. Without really looking where he was going, he stepped into the road just as the taxi came around the corner. He didn't even see it, or hear the warning cry from the man across the street.

'He's coming round,' the man said. A paramedic appeared followed by the police. Smithy groaned and reached for his head. As he moved his arm, he groaned again.

'Keep still, Sir; we need to get you to hospital to get you checked over. Head injuries can be very deceptive, although it doesn't look too bad. You were lucky that it was only a glancing blow. Can you give me your name and address? Is there anyone we can contact for you, Sir?'

Smithy thought for a moment. 'My name,' he repeated. He pressed his pockets and found nothing.

'Are you alright, Sir? Can you remember your name?' the police officer continued.

'Yes, of course I can remember my name. I just can't work out where I am or remember why I'm here.'

'As I said Sir, head injuries can be tricky. You said you know your name.' The officer opened his notebook.

'Yes, my name is Captain Jack Harkness, although I'm not in the army any more. My address is Torchwood House, which is across Loch Lomond from the village of Luss to the north of Glasgow. Where am I?'

'You're in London, Captain Harkness. You had an accident. We'll get someone to your address to let them know as soon as we can. Now, let's get you to hospital. Where are you staying?' the policeman asked.

Jack thought to himself. 'D'you know officer I have no idea; I can't seem to remember anything that's happened since ….. What date is this?'

'It's 30th August, Mr Harkness.'

'Yes, but what year?' Jack asked.

'2005, Sir.'

'That's nearly two years. The last thing I remember clearly is being in Cardiff in 2003. I'd been travelling for a bit after coming out of the army and realised that I'd seen very little of Britain. I'd been in the army for nearly 20 years and been injured by a roadside bomb when we first went into Iraq. I'm sorry I'm a bit confused and I don't seem to have any identification on me. You may not believe this but I can't remember a thing about what I've been doing for the last two years. I've no idea at all!'


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Jack was released from hospital the next day. He had no idea how he was going to get home but found that there was a message saying that a car would be waiting for him outside.

'Your brother sent me to get you, Mr Harkness. I'm to drive you back home today as the family is busy.'

'Typical of Gray; too busy with work to help his only brother' Jack replied getting into the back of the Range Rover.

'The family is attending a funeral, Mr Harkness,' the driver explained.

'Oh,' Jack said, feeling rather guilty about his comment. 'Anyone I know?'

'Yes, Mr Harkness; it was Mr Harkness, senior. He died a week ago of a heart attack. No one knew where you were until we received the phone call from the police yesterday morning.'

Jack sat back in the seat. His father, Franklin was dead. This meant they would all be there when he got to Torchwood House. It also meant that the house and the estate were his, unless his father had changed the will. He had such a lot to think about. He tried to work out what he knew. He remembered that he had been a soldier for some time. He'd joined at 18, done his history degree on a sponsorship and been in the army for 22 years. He'd fought in wars before they'd gone into Iraq; he remembered holding Angelo in his arms and that he'd been injured. Things had changed for him after that. He'd done his years so had chosen to leave. He'd gone home and then told the family that he intended to travel and see the world, especially those bits that had never been war zones. He knew he'd done that for a while, meeting new people, men and women, as he travelled through the Americas and then he'd come back to Britain again. But no matter how much he wracked his brain, he had no idea what he had been doing for the last two years.

'_Surely_,' he thought, '_it must be possible to find out in this day and age where he'd been_.' He needed to get home. There would be things to sort out now his father had died. He wondered how Gray would feel about having him back. His brother had always been the businessman; Jack had hated the company work, but now he supposed it was time to do his bit. There were sure to be new challenges ahead. He remembered that he'd also thought about going into politics and maybe even becoming an MP. He'd contact the local Liberal Party when he returned. The family were Conservatives but he'd always been more Liberal than anything. He closed his eyes. When he opened them he was surprised to find that they were already at junction 36 and nearing Kendal. A few more hours, traffic willing, and he'd be home for the first time in three years.

On the set Ianto was pacing the floor. He'd hardly slept the night before having phoned the hotel and been told that Mr Smith had not returned; his bill remained unpaid and his luggage unclaimed. They had no idea where he was. Ianto phoned the BBC, but they wouldn't even tell him if Smithy had been at the meeting. He kept messing up his lines and Owen was furious with him.

'You're making me look like a bloody idiot. I know you're worried but there'll be a reason. Now get on with it and act!'

Somehow Ianto had worked through the shoot. He tried Smithy's phone but it went straight to voicemail again. There were no e-mails either. Ianto rang as many hospitals he could find and the police but no John Smiths matching Smithy's description had been admitted or arrested. Ianto didn't know what to do.

The journey back to Wales was torture. He got home in the early evening to find Jenny and Alice waiting for him.

'What if he's got his memory back?' he said to them. 'He might not remember us or Myfanwy. He could even have remembered something and be on his way to America for all I know. Perhaps I should go to London.'

Jenny hugged him. 'I'm sorry Ianto, but I've no idea. You've tried all the hospitals and the police. You'll just have to wait and see if he returns. It's all you can do. You need to ring the hotel and get his stuff sent back.'

As the car pulled into the drive, Jack could see Torchwood House through the trees. The estate had been in the family for over two hundred years. Jack's father had gone to America to improve the business links and left the estate in the hands of Jack's uncle, but when he'd died the family had returned to Scotland, hence Jack's dual accent.

'His car is just coming up the drive,' Gray Harkness said. The immediate family were gathered in the house after the funeral, awaiting dinner. Gray was married to Beth, who'd made the perfect corporate wife. She could organise a dinner at the drop of a hat. Martha, Jack's eldest sister, was married to Mickey Smith who had his own security firm and lastly, Mary, Jack's younger sister, had recently married for the second time. Her new husband, Geraint Cooper, had brought a teenaged daughter, Gwen, into the family. She was nineteen, precocious and, being the apple of her daddy's eye, was able to wind him around her little finger.

'I'm dying to see Uncle Jack. Should I call him Uncle even though he's not really my uncle? It's all so romantic, missing those years, and him not knowing what he's been up to or where he's been. It's like some novel – _The Uncle who returned from the Dead'_

'_Or Two Years in deepest Amnesia_,' Martha quipped. 'Think of it; where d'you suppose he's spent those years and who with?'

'Just what I've been asking,' Beth said. 'He could have been in jail for all we know; you know how reckless he could be!'

'Well, the will was written ten years ago, according to Trulove, the solicitor, so that means that Jack gets the house and the estate and Gray gets the business, or 70% of it, with 15% each for Martha and Mary,' Mickey said.

'It's really not fair that Jack gets the house and estate. He's hardly been here over the last 20 years,' Beth said. 'You've done more to look after it than he has!'

'I know but you don't like living here, as it's too far away from the city and Jack was always father's favourite, you know that,' Gray said.

'Well we'll have to wait and see if it is Jack who's turned up like a ….'

'Bad penny,' Jack said entering the room and smiling at the faces in front of him. Gray was the first to rise and shake his hand.

'Jack, it's good to have you back.'

'I'm sorry I missed father's funeral, Gray. I believe that it went well.' He shook Mickey's hand as well. 'Good to see you, Mickey Mouse.'

'And you, Captain Cheesecake,' Mickey replied, without malice at Jack's use of the old nickname.

'That's beefcake, I think you'll find,' Jack added.

He hugged Martha and Mary. 'This is my new husband, Geraint,' Mary said. 'And this is Gwen, Geraint's daughter. She's been dying to meet you.'

Jack took the girl's hand and kissed the back of it. She was undoubtedly pretty, with a charming gap between her teeth, big brown eyes and glossy dark hair that fell over her shoulders.

'How do you do, Gwen? It's lovely to meet you.' He was rewarded with the most wonderful smile.

'You're just in time for dinner, Uncle Jack,' Gwen explained. 'Here, sit next to me. I'm dying to hear all about you.' She hesitated for a moment. 'Or at least what you can remember.'

'By the way, Jack, Trulove is reading the will tomorrow morning,' Gray explained. 'It's ten years old so you'll get your share which includes the house and estate, I understand.'

'Really,' Jack said. The housekeeper began to bring in the food. Jack had forgotten what it was like to have servants. He noticed that the others were looking at him, as he picked up his fork and began to eat.

'If you're looking for an explanation, I haven't really got one. That's what loss of memory does for you. All I know is that I was in London but I've no idea why. I had nothing with me except a paper and some change. I'd been knocked down by a taxi apparently and I came to in a shop doorway. Before that I can't remember a thing since I was in Cardiff two years ago. I know I'd been to America and I was going to do Wales and Ireland, then head into Europe and onto Africa and Asia. The last two years are a complete blank to me. I've no idea what I've done or where I've been, but hopefully there won't be a string of law suits following me!'

'Or mothers with abandoned babies!' Mary added.

'It's not just women from what I recall,' Mickey joked. 'Jack was always rather free with his favours!'

'Is that true, Uncle Jack?' Gwen said.

'What can I say? I guess I like keeping people happy,' Jack replied. 'I did find this key as well, but I've no idea what it belongs to or where I belong.' Jack felt sad for a moment.

'You belong here, Uncle Jack,' Gwen said emphatically.

'You're very sweet, Gwen,' Jack said touching her hand. She blushed prettily, he thought _and _she wasn't really his niece so perhaps … She certainly seemed interested in him.

He looked around the table. 'I hope you'll all still visit whenever you like,' Jack said.

'I shall come often,' Gwen replied, placing her hand on his.

The following morning the family began to go their separate ways. Jack stood at the door saying goodbye. Gwen came out with her father.

'I don't think I shall call you uncle anymore. You're really not my uncle, you know.' Jack smiled, knowing exactly the point that Gwen was trying to make. She couldn't have been more obvious if she'd hung a sign around her neck.

'Sit down a minute, Jack,' she continued, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards a nearby bench.

'Jack, aren't you going to be lonely all by yourself in this big old house?'

'Perhaps. Why?' Jack asked.

'Well when people are lonely they're sometimes easily led into foolish relationships, just to pass the time.'

'I see your step mother has been telling tales,' Jack said smirking. 'No doubt she's warned you that I'll sleep with anything with a postcode!'

'Oh I'm not worried about that,' Gwen said confidently. 'I like older, more experienced men and you've seen so much of the world. I expect that there's such a lot you could teach me!'

'And I bet you're an excellent scholar,' Jack replied, 'but you'll be going back to university, won't you?'

'Yes, but I'm not that far away. I'm at St Andrews so I'll be able to visit a lot. It's just that I don't want you to think that I'm just some silly little girl. I could be good for you, Jack.'

'I'm sure that there are many things you could do for me, Gwen, and I appreciate your kind offer; I'll keep it in mind.'

'So it'll be alright if I came here in the holidays, then? I'm sure that father won't mind and Mary will enjoy coming back here as well. I could look after you; a single man needs someone to look after his needs.' Her eyes were wide as she said this.

'Yes,' Jack replied. 'I suppose he does.'


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Jack spent the next few days looking over the house and estate and going through the books. The estate was financially secure, considering the times; he had to admit that Gray had done a good job. There was no mortgage on the site and a steady income came from the regular shoots and the management of the forests. Jack wasn't sure about the shoots as he'd seen enough killing in his life but for now he'd leave that to the gamekeeper. There were also other workers in the house and estate. Indoors the house was managed by the butler and housekeeper and there was also a cook. He planned to meet all of them and introduce himself as soon as he could.

He spent the morning walking around the immediate grounds. The views from the main house were spectacular, especially the one of the loch through the trees with the mountains behind. The sun was glinting off the surface of the water and Jack could see one of the regular cruise boats chugging across. He returned reluctantly to the house and went to his study. Jamie McCrimmon, the butler, came in carrying coffee. He was relatively new to the job but seemed efficient.

'Will that be all, Sir?'

'Yes, Jamie, just me for meals today.' Jack looked up at the portrait of his father which dominated the room.

'Have you any idea what you're going to do now, Sir? You'll get very lonely rattling around in this old place.' Jack wondered for a moment if Jamie had an ulterior motive but dismissed the idea.

'I don't know, Jamie. I thought perhaps that I might take up writing. Perhaps there's a story in my experiences. War stories certainly seem popular and I've a few of them I could tell. I wonder what my father would have liked me to do. We always had a difficult relationship. He wasn't pleased when I joined the army but we came to an understanding eventually.'

'I think he'd have liked you to follow him into the business, Sir. Isn't that what all fathers want?'

'No, not for me; Gray is the businessman in this family,' Jack protested.

'There's time for you to learn, Sir,' Jamie suggested before leaving.

Jack leant back in his chair. He felt the key in his pocket and, once again, he wondered where it was from and about the two years he'd lost. Perhaps Jamie was right; perhaps he did need a role in the business, or possibly he could branch out with his own ideas. The Internet offered all sorts of possibilities now.

As the weeks went by Jack received lots of e-mails from Gwen telling him all about her days at the university and how she was longing to see him. He tried writing but nothing came. It was like his brain just wanted to fill in the gaps left by his memory loss and wouldn't let him create anything meaningful.

'So you've decided to go into business after all,' Gwen wrote. 'Mary said that you're brilliant at all this web stuff and that you're going to make the family very rich. I can't wait to see you again.'

The weeks turned into months and the months into years. Jack sat in his study looking at the photo of Gwen in her graduation gown. She was no longer a teenager. She still had the gap in her teeth and that glossy brown mane of hair, but now she was much more confident. She'd made it quite clear to Jack what she wanted but Jack had kept her at arm's length. He was twice her age after all and there was just something that held him back. It wasn't that he'd lived like a eunuch over the last two years; Glasgow and Edinburgh offered their pleasant diversions, but there was always that sense of something being missing. Times were hard; the government had a crisis to deal with and wasn't dealing with it particularly well. However Jack had found a gap in the market. If he couldn't write, he'd encourage others and e-reading was the coming thing. It was easy to publish online and overheads were less. It seemed that everyone had a book in them, except him. Every time he tried to write the blank page just stared back at him.

That morning he strode into the office to find Gwen waiting for him. She was dressed up and the outfit must have cost a fortune. She stood and did a twirl for him.

'Hello Nuisance,' he said, indulgently

'Well, what d'you think, Jack? It seems a pity to waste all this effort. I think you should take me to lunch today. There's a new place just opened up. It's the place to be seen, Jack, and I'm sure that your name would get us in.'

'Gwen, I haven't really got the time,' Jack protested.

'That's not what your PA says; so modern of you to have a male PA, Jack. He says that you should be able to manage an hour or two. He's very handsome, isn't he?'

'Is he?' Jack replied. She was certainly right that he looked good in a suit. The man was so efficient that Jack wondered how he would manage without him now.

'Mr Gillespie,' he said, pressing the intercom button. 'I'm going out to lunch. I'm told that you approve.'

'Yes, I thoroughly approve, Mr Harkness.'

'I need the Browning papers. Do I have anything at two this afternoon?'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Can you postpone it?' he asked. Gwen smiled, knowing that she'd won.

'Certainly, Sir. Will there be anything else?'

'No, Mr Gillespie, that will be all. I'll be back later. Right my dear Gwen, I'm all yours for the next two hours.'

'_I hope so_,' Gwen thought. '_I certainly hope so_!'

Gwen was right about the restaurant; it was new and prestigious and owned by one of the new breed of chefs, keen to get patronage from the rich or famous. Gwen practically bristled with importance and ate hardly anything.

'You've been very good Jack, and not looked at your watch once.'

'I must go soon though; Mr Gillespie will be wondering where I am,' Jack said.

'You used to say that you hated business,' Gwen pointed out.

'Did I?' Jack questioned.

'You know you did. You came in to help out and ended up staying.'

'So many people depend on our business, Gwen. Gray knows his stuff but he's not prepared to try anything new and technology changes so quickly these days. We have to keep up.'

'But, Jack!' she said, giving him her sweetest smile. 'Don't you ever want to get out and have some fun?' Jack thought about the week before. He'd been on a trip to Paris and certainly had some fun there, but he wasn't sharing that with Gwen! Jack realised he was listening to the man behind him. The accent caught his imagination.

'What is it?' Gwen asked, noting his inattention.

'Nothing really; it was just that accent. Sometimes I get a wisp of memory that fades away before I can catch hold of it. Anyway you were talking about fun.'

'I think you should take a holiday, Jack. You've got to spend your money on something, so why not me?'

'I may have the money, Gwen, but I haven't got the time. In case you haven't noticed, there is a recession looming.' He paused for a moment.

'Oh, I don't care about that, Jack!' She looked at him. 'How old are you really? You never seem to change and you're really very good looking.'

'Thank you, Gwen; it's kind of you to notice.'

'Oh Jack, you know that there isn't a person in this room who hasn't noticed, including that waiter who would have fed you by hand on his knees if you'd asked him!'

'What can I say? It's hard being this perfect.' They both laughed.

'That's just it, you are. You're clever and interesting. You dress well and, well, you've completely spoilt me for other men. It's no secret, Jack. You know that I've always been mad about you.' She batted her eyelashes. 'You must love me a little bit, Jack, or you wouldn't put up with me. We're very alike, you know. We laugh at the same things and we always have fun together, don't we? I do wonder why you've never even tried … well, you know that I'd only be too pleased if you would look in my direction.'

'Look, Gwen, I haven't said that I don't have feelings for you. I do. You are really special and any man would be lucky to have you.'

'I sense a 'but' there though, Jack. You still see me as a silly teenager, don't you? A silly thing, but I'm not, not anymore.' He took her hand.

'There's no 'but', Gwen. I can see that there are lots of good things about us being a couple.' Jack momentarily felt a shiver.

'Really, Jack? That would be fantastic, but do you mean it? You're not just humouring me, are you?'

'No, it's time I settled down Gwen, and you're right, we do have fun together and I'm sure we could have more.'

'Are you really, Jack? Are you sure? I won't get to your office tomorrow to find that you've forgotten everything that's been said today?'

'Nah! I'll get Mr Gillespie to remind me. He remembers everything as well as making the most amazing coffee I've ever tasted!'

'Well then,' Gwen said, sensing that she'd better seal the deal. 'Let's get out of here. Take me home to Torchwood, Jack, and show me that you mean it and that you really do love me!'


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The following day, Jack sat in his office, staring at his computer screen. He absent-mindedly pulled out the key he kept on a chain in his waistcoat pocket. Had he done the right thing? Gwen was young and eager to please. He knew that she would do anything he asked her to do. What she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. He needed a wife and someone to carry on the family name, he supposed. But was that enough of a reason? Did he love Gwen? No, that was the wrong question; he did love Gwen, but he knew that he wasn't in love with her. When she'd left him this morning, she'd practically floated out of the room. The intercom buzzed, disturbing his thoughts.

'I have that document you wanted, Sir,' his PA said. 'And your morning coffee.'

'Thanks, Alex. Could you bring them in, please?' It was funny that he only used the man's first name when they were alone.

Ianto Jones came through the door carrying the papers and the coffee and then sat down in the chair awaiting his instructions for the day. He'd done this every working day for the last six months. It had taken him nearly two years to find Smithy and then it had only been by chance. He'd been at the dentist and picked up a magazine only to find the face of Jack Harkness, the head of Harkness Industries, staring back at him, except that the face was that of the man he loved. His Smithy was Jack Harkness! The soon to be Sir Jack Harkness if the reporter was correct! Ianto had phoned Owen straight away. His friend had become a fixture on Casualty. Ianto had only done bits and pieces of work after he'd recovered from a particularly bad attack of glandular fever. When Myfanwy had been killed by a car being driven too fast down a country lane, Ianto had fallen into a deep depression. He'd stopped eating and hidden himself away, becoming skin and bone until Owen had moved him out of the cottage and in with him and Tosh. Gradually he'd improved. Owen and Tosh were married now and she was expecting their first child. As she worked in IT, Tosh had heard of Harkness Industries, but it seemed that Jack Harkness kept out of the limelight, leaving that to his brother Gray, so not much was known about him really, although there were rumours about a colourful private life and a mysterious past. Ianto guessed that he knew more about that mysterious past than many.

Once he'd discovered Smithy, Ianto had come up with a plan. Somehow he would get to work for him and then, at least, he would see him every day.

'It's mad,' Owen had said. 'He obviously won't remember you. You're going to torment yourself if you do this.'

'I know, but I can't just ignore him and I can't tell him what we were to each other,' Ianto said.

'Well you might have to. What if he's involved with someone else? How will you cope then? He can't marry someone else. You're already married to him, or in a civil partnership anyway. '

'I know and well, I know it's stupid, but I'm going to do some courses and somehow get some office experience. I've done a bit of checking on his past and there are rumours about him having a reputation for fancying anyone good looking enough. Perhaps he'll notice me.'

That had been nine months ago. Ianto had used his stage name to get his first job with Harwood and Williams. Tosh had provided documents and references and he'd made himself indispensible to old Mr Williams. Jack had visited the firm and Ianto had noticed that he looked at him. He'd dressed to impress and was always in three piece suits. Jack had also commented on the great coffee he made. When the vacancy for a PA had come up at Harkness Industries, Ianto had applied and got the job. He'd been there for six months now but Jack had never made a move on him. Oh, he'd flirted a bit, but Ianto guessed that this was standard behaviour. But now there was Gwen Cooper and it finally looked like she was wearing Jack down. The thought of him with Gwen hurt more than he wanted to think about. Late at night he lay in bed remembering the times they'd been together. He imagined Smithy touching him, holding him, loving him again. He got control of himself, sat and waited for instructions once more.

'I've scribbled some notes here. Will you take care of it? Oh, and this needs to go as soon as. Are the figures for this month ready?' Jack asked.

'Yes, Sir, I have them here and I've e-mailed you a copy.' Jack was surprisingly old fashioned; he liked to have hard copies of things on which to make his own notes. He said it made him more thorough.

'Alex, this offer from Harwood and Williams, what do you think? They're playing hard ball. You used to work for them; d'you think they're bluffing?'

'I doubt it, Sir. Mr Williams always seemed determined and didn't change his mind very often. You might like to ask Ms Cooper as I believe that she knows his son, Rhys. Transport costs are very expensive these days, what with the cost of petrol rising all the time, but Harwoods' are very competitive.'

'I believe old Mr Williams wasn't pleased to lose you,' Jack said.

'I think it was mostly my coffee he didn't want to lose. His wife had suggested a male PA to stop his wandering hands, but I wanted to come here and work for you, so when I saw the vacancy, I went for it.'

'May I ask why?' Jack said, leaning towards him. Ianto clutched the chair. Numerous times Jack had leant over him or just brushed by him and Ianto thought that his knees would give way. If he just stretched out his hand would Jack take it?

'A few weeks before I moved here I came across a trade paper which had an article about you. It had the headline 'Industrial Captain of Britain'. I was impressed and by then you'd visited H&W a few times; somehow I knew that I could help you.' Jack almost blushed and Ianto was briefly reminded of the shy, quiet man that he had once known.

'I simply decided that I wanted to work for the Captain of Britain more than anything else.' Ianto looked directly at him and swore he felt a connection and then it was broken as Jack spoke.

'Well, I'm very glad that you did, Alex. You make things so much easier for me. What's this?' he said opening a file.

'Oh, that's the report on that firm in Cardiff; you wanted me to research if it was viable and worth taking over. It would save several hundred jobs if we could. They've been printing books there for over 100 years. We should be able to diversify and it's near a port and transport links to the M4.'

'Oh yes, Gray liked this one and a skilled workforce is not to be sniffed at.'

'I know the local area well; I lived there for a while. I have more information and photographs of the area.' Ianto was hoping that the photographs might remind Smithy of their time together.

'I think I'll ask Gray to have a look. I'm going on holiday soon and then I'm going to travel. I always intended to go around the world and now, well, I'm getting married.'

Ianto's head jerked up and he struggled to mask his shock.

'You're the first to hear my news. It'll mean a lot more work for you, getting things sorted for when I leave.'

'It's Ms Cooper, I suppose?' Ianto said desperately pulling himself together.

'Yes, is it so obvious? She wore me down.' Jack said, smiling.

'I'm not surprised; she's a very charming girl.' He emphasised the word girl as he spoke.

'I hope you won't leave the company, Alex, without me here as you were obviously keen to work for me! You never seem to give yourself time for a private life.' Jack had wondered occasionally if Alex fancied him. There'd been no hint of a girlfriend or indeed anyone and Alex was always prepared to work all the hours available.

'I was married once, Sir. If you remember, I told you when I first joined the firm,' Ianto said. Strange Jack had never asked why his marriage was obviously a thing of the past.

'Oh yes, I'd forgotten. I must be getting old. Goodness knows what a young thing like Gwen sees in me.'

'_There's quite a list_,' Ianto thought to himself, as his hand strayed to fondle the silver stopwatch Smithy had given him after their partnership ceremony.

'Right, Alex, I think that's everything for now,' Jack said brusquely. Ianto picked up the phone as it rang.

'It's Ms Cooper for you, Sir,' he said, handing Jack the phone without saying anything further. He collapsed into his office chair and wondered what the hell he was going to do. Later that night he rang Owen.

'I don't think you should, Ianto. You'd be taking a big risk. What d'you want from him? If he loves this Gwen, he'd just end your partnership. It doesn't look good that you've been working for him without saying anything. You could be accused of stalking him or something.'

'But I love him, Owen. I want my Smithy back, the man who needed me, the man who loved me.' How the hell could he get Owen to understand how he felt about being so near to the other man and yet not be able to be with him? How all he wanted to do was kiss him and feel his touch on his skin. How he felt so empty and hollow because he didn't have Smithy inside him, loving him, taking him, making him feel such pleasure that there weren't enough words in the English language to describe how he felt when they were together. How could he tell Owen that? He just knew that he couldn't. Owen was his best friend but he couldn't tell him all that.

'And you say he's never shown any interest in you that way?' Owen said. 'Look, Ianto, he didn't recognise you when you walked in. If you tell him who you are, it's just words. It's not going to mean anything. We both know that. He didn't choose to leave you. He just remembered his old life and forgot you. It's not his fault.'

'Oh I know, Owen. I see him every day and every day I hope,' Ianto explained.

'And that's it. You can't just announce that you were once his partner. It'll mean nothing to him. You'll mean nothing!'

Owen's words cut like a knife through Ianto's heart. He knew what Owen was saying was true but it still hurt like hell to hear it said out loud. 'I know he'd resent me and pity me and then divorce me so he could marry Gwen,' Ianto agreed.

'You could always try hitting him over the head again,' Owen suggested. 'Then it might all come back to him.'

'Bloody hell, Owen! I wonder why I put up with you sometimes,' Ianto replied. 'You know how much I miss him every day.'

'So what are you going to do?' Owen asked once more.

'I don't know, Owen. I really don't know!'


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The chapel in the grounds of Torchwood House was small and private. Inside it was austere, like many other Presbyterian chapels, but the family had added a beautiful stained glass window and altar table at one end. Having their own chapel meant that it was easy to organise a wedding at short notice and Gwen had been in her element teasing Jack about her wedding dress. He'd chosen to wear traditional dress.

'Well, I've got the legs for a kilt, haven't I?' he asked Gwen, as they strolled through the extensive grounds a few days before the ceremony was due to take place.

'Jack, you would look handsome in a sack, but I must admit that the page boys look gorgeous in their kilts,' Gwen replied, pushing her arm through his as they came around the corner to see some of the family sitting on the terrace taking tea.

'Have you two forgotten that you're getting married on Wednesday?' her step mother, Mary, asked.

It was true that they'd lost track of time. The weather was beautiful and they'd walked down to the loch to get a little time together away from the family. Jack had teased her about the honeymoon and she'd been trying to get clues as to where they were going, but Jack refused to say anything about his plans. He had to admit that her enthusiasm was infectious and he'd found himself swept along by a tidal wave of ideas.

Gwen looked at her watch. 'Oh goodness, we're supposed to be seeing old Mr Beddoes about the music choices for the ceremony, aren't we?' she whispered to Jack. They waved to the family and hurried across the grounds to the chapel. Mr Beddoes was sitting at the organ, playing to himself. While Gwen went to talk to him, Jack sat looking at the window and altar. They'd chosen to enter using the usual wedding march and both loved the hymn 'Dear Lord and Father of Mankind', despite the second line of 'forgive our foolish ways'. They'd laughed that perhaps they were both being foolish and the idea had hung in the air until Gwen had changed the subject. Jack could vaguely hear Gwen discussing the choice of a song to be played as they were leaving. As the music filled the chapel, Jack thought that it sounded strangely familiar. He wondered why he should feel anything for this rather cheesy song from the 1980s. '_Wind Beneath your Wings_' wouldn't be something that he'd normally listen to as a rule, but there was something trying to push into his head, something important, and he felt his mind trying to reach for it and grab hold of this memory that was somewhere on the edge of his consciousness. He didn't hear Gwen speaking to him.

'It's a lovely song isn't it, Jack? It's what I want to be for you. You don't mind me using it, do you? Jack?' she repeated, walking up to him. Jack turned to look at her and she instantly knew that there was something wrong.

'Darling, what is it? You look strange,' she said quietly. Jack merely stared ahead, tears in his eyes, his feelings quite obvious even to Gwen as she looked at him. Turning on her heels, she hurried down the aisle away from him to sit at the back of the chapel. The noise of her heels brought Jack back to reality and he followed her to sit on the same pew.

'I'm sorry, Gwen. I was miles away for a moment,' he said, trying to comfort her. He wasn't quite sure why she was so upset.

'It's alright, Jack. I'm glad it happened now. It's better this way,' she replied between sobs.

'Better?' Jack questioned. 'What is it? I don't understand what's happened.'

'Oh come on, Darling, we both know that this wedding isn't going to happen. I've been uncertain from the start and now I'm sure. It's no use. I've always known it really; I just wanted so much to believe that you loved me as much as I love you, but even I'm not that selfish.' She looked at him, her tears flowing freely over her cheeks. She tried to brush them away.

Jack went to say something. 'No, Jack, it's true. I know I'm not the one for you. Just now you were remembering something or someone from your past. It was the music; it meant something to you, didn't it?'

'Yes,' Jack replied hesitantly. 'But I've no idea what.'

'You looked at me just now as if I was a complete stranger. Although I was standing there right next to you, I've never felt so far away from you. I felt like I was trying to take the place of someone else, someone you loved, who you still love but can't remember.'

'But I'm trying to make a life for us, Gwen. I can't stop my life because I can't recall what happened during those missing years,' Jack protested.

'No, please don't. There's someone out there who you love in a way that you could never love me, Jack. Let's face it, you'd never stay faithful to me and I need someone who'll completely adore me.' She thought of Rhys Williams who'd been following her around like a devoted puppy for months.

'I'm only nearly the one; so nearly that I shall always be proud of it but nearly isn't enough for a lifetime. It would be so hard to watch you get tired of me and even harder if you came to hate me. I think I'll go away for a while; I think that's best.'

'Gwen...' Jack felt confused.

'It's alright, Jack. I asked for all this; it's my fault and I'll get over it. I shan't be tragic; I'll see what fun I can find and we both know that I'm good at finding fun. I'll probably find a nice man more my age to marry me who will adore me and put up with all my nonsense.' She got up from the pew.

'I don't know what to say, Gwen. You're being so grown up about this.' He turned away for a moment until Gwen pulled him back around and put a finger under his chin, lifting it up.

'You don't have to say anything, Darling.' She bent down, kissed him gently, and then walked away, without looking back. Jack continued to sit and stare. Suddenly it came to him what he needed to do. He had to try and find out who he was; somewhere there must be someone who knew about his missing years and he intended to find them.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Gray Harkness paced up and down the boardroom. Ianto watched him with interest.

'Whatever could have happened? One minute they were picking hymns and the next minute it was all over. Confound that girl! Where the hell is he? Doesn't he realise that we have a business to run? Damn him!'

Ianto had to work very hard to keep the smile from his face, although he was worried for Smithy or Jack, as he really was.

'Perhaps he's gone away, Sir?' he suggested.

'Yes, McCrimmon said something about him going to Cardiff, but why would he go there?'

'Wasn't that the last place he remembered?' Ianto ventured. 'Perhaps he thinks it might help him to remember what happened to him. I've never spoken to Mr Harkness about it.'

Gray took the seat at the head of the table. 'He was run over by a taxi in London and remembered who he was, but he had no memory of the previous two years or why he was there. It was strange, I can tell you.'

Ianto knew that he had to find Jack. Perhaps he'd remembered something. If Ianto found him he might remember him as well. The thought of Jack taking him in his strong arms made Ianto shiver with anticipation. It didn't take long to discover that his boss was booked into the St David's Hotel in Cardiff; one of the secretaries had booked the room. Ianto checked the flights from Glasgow to Cardiff and discovered that there was one in the next two hours. He could grab some clothes and just make it. He would be in Cardiff in a few hours.

Ianto Jones stood outside the hotel room door and hesitated. He'd come up with some excuse for why he needed to find Jack. He was desperate to know whether the other man was alright and what had happened between him and Gwen that had caused the marriage to be called off. He tapped on the door.

'Come in,' came from within and he pushed the door open.

'Please forgive me for coming all this way, Sir, but we were anxious about you and then this e-mail came that needed to be answered straight away. I thought you might need someone with you and your brother was worried.'

'You were always too efficient for me to escape for long, Alex,' Jack said, sighing.

Ianto stood and looked at Jack. 'You don't look well, Sir,' he said.

'I'm sorry. I should have let you know where I was. Sit down, Alex. So what is it that so desperately needs my attention?' Jack asked.

'We had this e-mail from the chair of the Edinburgh South West Liberal Party to say that, after you'd put yourself forward as a prospective candidate, they'd chosen you to contest the seat in the by-election. They wanted a reply immediately as you hadn't answered their phone messages.'

'Well that's a bit of a turn up. With everything that's happened, I'd almost forgotten about it. You know why I came to Cardiff, don't you, Alex? It's been over four years and here is the last place I remember; it was Bonfire Night and there was a fireworks display with lots of noise. I thought that if I walked around, I might recognise something or remember something. Perhaps someone might know me.'

'You've never thought of checking before, Sir?' Ianto said.

Jack looked at the other man. He was handsome and efficient, in fact everything you could want in a PA. Jack had never really considered him as a man before. His stomach fluttered but he had no idea why and felt somewhat unnerved. He needed to concentrate.

'I did go back to London once, to where I had the accident, but didn't find anything and then life, the business and Gwen took over.'

'But what made you decide to come here today, Sir? I know that the wedding has been called off.'

'Yesterday I heard a song and I knew that I had to come back here, to Wales. Suddenly I felt the loss of those years more painfully than I ever had before. Gwen realised the truth. She knew that I'd never really loved her, that there was someone else.'

Ianto's heart leapt; he wanted to shout, 'YES, ME' and take Jack into his arms and make everything better again.

'My life is incomplete, Alex; I really don't know who I am. Sorry, you're my PA, not my confessor. I don't want to bore you with my troubles.'

'Not at all, Sir. I wonder why you were in London then. Perhaps you were just visiting; perhaps you'd gone there from Wales. Perhaps that's what's drawn you back here. Maybe when you lost your memory in Cardiff, they would have looked after you somewhere. You wouldn't have known your name. Perhaps it wasn't just the noise of the fireworks.'

'You mean I might have had some sort of reaction to what had happened in Iraq?' Jack paused to think for several moments. 'Hmm, I suppose you could be right.'

'What did happen, Sir? You've never mentioned it,' Ianto asked.

Jack went to the mini bar and poured himself a whisky. 'Would you like something?' he asked.

'I think I might join you in a whisky if that's alright, Sir.'

Jack handed him the glass. 'There was an incident in Iraq very early on in the war. I'd been a soldier for over twenty years but the conditions there were so much worse than anything I'd experienced before. One of my friends died in my arms; his name was Angelo Colosanto. His parents were from Italy originally.'

'I guess that he was special to you, Sir.'

'Yes, he was,' Jack answered, without further explanation. 'After that I got out and told the family I was going away for a while. I wanted to see the world without having a gun in my hand and worrying that every stranger wanted to kill me. Then I came home. I was going to travel through Wales and England and onto Europe and Africa. That night I went to the display at the Castle. There was so much noise and so many people; I remember thinking that I had to get away. I wandered down the street and that's the last thing I remember.'

'Do you think it could have been some sort of post traumatic disorder that the noise and crowds brought on?'

'It's possible,' Jack agreed.

'Let's go to Queen Street now. You might recognise something,' Ianto suggested.

'Queen Street?' Jack queried.

'Yes, I used to live in Cardiff. It's the main street away from the Castle. It has all the shops and the theatre is just around the corner. There's a lovely restaurant nearby. We could have lunch there.' Ianto hoped that Jack would remember something, but as they walked up and down it was obvious that there was nothing that helped.

'It's no good, Alex. I have no real memories of being here. I shall have to learn to accept myself for what I am, defective in some way. Gwen must have seen me like that and you must as well.' Jack stopped for a moment and wondered why it was suddenly important how Alex saw him. He needed to get a hold on things. 'Right, will you contact the Chair of the constituency and tell them I'd be happy to accept their nomination? I need a change and I think Parliament needs people who understand business, rather than just the bunch of snotty nosed kids who are there now and are mostly career politicians. I guess Torchwood would cope without me.'

'I'll do it right away, Sir. And I'll check out the flights back to Edinburgh tonight. Do you want me to come to Edinburgh with you?'

'No, I'll go to the capital myself,' Jack said. 'You go back to the business; when I give Gray the news he'll be none too pleased. However, I would like you to work on my campaign. Perhaps you could be my agent or manager?' Jack suggested.

'I'd like that, Sir,' Ianto said trying to control the excitement he felt inside. 'I'll get things sorted for you.'

'Wonderful. I'll see you off and we'll meet as soon as I know more. I think that we'll make a great team, you and I!'

'I think we will too, Sir,' Ianto agreed.

'Perhaps we could drop the Sir now, Alex. Please call me Jack. If we're going to be working so closely together, things will be different.'

'Jack it is then, Sir,' Ianto said, smiling. He was going to work hand-in-hand with him and who knew where that might lead...


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

'I, therefore, declare that Jack Harkness is the duly elected representative for Edinburgh South West,' the returning officer concluded.

Ianto stood off to one side, waiting while Jack gave his acceptance speech. The campaign had been brilliant; most people admitted that Jack was a natural. Ianto felt so proud of the man he loved.

'Congratulations, Jack; you did it,' Ianto said, after the other man had received back slaps and handshakes from the other party officials in the room. 'You're the new MP for Edinburgh South West. I've had a text message from Nick to say that he's thrilled by the victory, against the odds as well.'

'Your work got me this victory, Alex; I couldn't have done this without you.' Ianto felt Jack's strong arms around him for the first time in nearly four years. There was that familiar scent and Ianto had to work hard to resist burying his face into Jack's neck and breathing him in.

'Come on, let's celebrate, you and I. We'll soon be too busy for real life.'

Jack's maiden speech came around all too soon. Ianto had spent hours with him going through it. Its theme was a business one; he spoke about job creation and liberal values. Ianto watched from the public gallery and then waited on the terrace overlooking the Thames. He watched as Jack made his way through to the table. He was clapped on the back several times and Ianto felt almost overwhelmed with pride. This was Smithy, his quiet, unassuming lover who was now striding through the corridors of power as if he owned them.

'I'm sorry I'm late,' Jack said as he sat down. 'Did you see me?' It was really important to Jack that he had. He trusted Alex to tell him the truth but wanted praise all the same.

'Of course I did, Jack. I wouldn't have missed it for the world,' Ianto said.

'I couldn't have done any of this without you behind me. You know that, don't you?'

'Don't mention it, Sir, and be careful or you'll be singing '_Wind beneath my Wings' _at me.' Jack laughed and then realised there was that niggling memory again. '_What was it about that song?_' But he couldn't remember.

'Well, in a sense you are,' he said, putting his hand on Ianto's arm. The Welshman felt himself blush and he put his head down to drink his coffee. When he looked up, the other man was gazing at him.

'You're staring at me, Jack,' he said. He thought that Jack would be able to see his true feelings as his eyes were burrowing into his very soul.

'Am I? It's just that I was thinking that you should wear red more often; it suits you.'

'You were staring so intently,' Ianto continued.

'Was I? I just had a sense of thinking that before. Perhaps I've just never noticed with you flitting in and out of the office. We've spent so much time together recently.'

'Did you have the feeling that you'd known me before?' Ianto asked.

'For a moment, yes. As a matter of fact I felt it quite strongly the first time I saw you in Williams' office.'

'You didn't say anything at the time,' Ianto said. 'Maybe that was why you decided to employ me.'

'Possibly. Look Alex, I'd like you to stay on and work with me. I'll fully understand if you don't want to. It would mean you being with me all the time. I have a house in London; there would be room for you there if you wanted.'

'Wouldn't that be rather unusual, Jack? It could cause gossip.'

'Alex, I really don't care what people think. The question is, what do you think? That's all that really matters to me,' Jack said emphatically.

'No, it doesn't worry me in the slightest, Sir. You and I make a good team and I don't have any other family. It also makes sense financially, as long as we're careful how we work out the expenses.' Ianto tried hard to contain his excitement. Jack had looked at him. He'd worn a red shirt at their partnership ceremony as Smithy had always loved the colour. They'd had red roses in their lapels as well. And now he'd be living with him, in the same house and be with him for 24 hours a day.

That night Ianto phoned Owen. 'He wants me to move in with him.'

'What!' Owen said.

'No, not like that. He said if I was going to assist him it would be easier if I was there with him all the time. Jack isn't worried about what people think and we know that he's had affairs with men and women. Even when the press tried to make something of it during the campaign, he still won. Owen, this could be it; Jack could fall in love with me all over again. I think he's a little bit there already. You should see the way that he looks at me sometimes.'

'Ianto, you need to be careful. I see you're calling him Jack now. Don't expect anything. He may not see you like that, although as he fancied you once, I imagine a little getting caught in a small towel coming out of the shower might help to remind him, or make him more interested in your charms.'

Ianto laughed. 'Yes, I suppose I could try the bleeding obvious; that would be what you'd do.'

'Ianto, my lovely wife is about to give birth, I don't need to shake my arse like you do. Look, to be serious, you do love him, don't you? You love Jack Harkness, businessman, MP, and not just the Smithy you remember. I can hear how you feel in your voice.'

'Am I that obvious?' Ianto asked. 'I loved Smithy's quietness and gentleness, but I love Jack's dynamism and determination. It's hopeless, isn't it?'

'Hmmm, I just hope that you can cope with living in the same house and not letting those feelings show too much. Let him make the running if there's any running to be made. Look, I have to go. Ring me when you're settled.'

The next few months went by in a blur of activity. Jack and Ianto worked constantly side by side. There was some gossip, but Jack was so extraordinarily charming that no one cared. Old ladies adored him; mothers practically held up their babies for him to kiss and even the workers were prepared to sit and listen to him. He fast gained the reputation of being the man to call when there was any sort of dispute to resolve.

'This evening has been a triumph, Alex,' Jack said. 'And all because of you. Even Gordon danced and it was so nice to have all the Scottish MPs here at Torchwood. I don't know how you persuaded them, especially as there's bound to be an election soon.' McCrimmon came in with two brandies as they sat in Jack's study.

'That will be all, Jamie, and thank you for all your hard work. Could you please thank all the staff for their efforts? The evening has been a great success.'

'Thank you, Sir. It's been nice to have the house alive with people again. I'll be off to my bed then.'

Ianto gazed at Jack. He looked amazing in his kilt and the full outfit. He'd watched the older man dance with all the women, longing to feel his arms around him and to dance as they had at their partnership ceremony. Ianto loosened his tie and fiddled at his wrists.

'D'you want a hand with those?' Jack asked.

'Yes please.' Jack got up as Ianto held out his hands. 'I'm glad you liked them.'

'They're perfect little dragons,' Ianto said, enjoying the intimacy of the moment as Jack undid the shirt sleeves and handed him the cufflinks.

'I couldn't have done any of this without you. Goodness, how many times have I said that over the last few months, so many times? It doesn't matter really because it will never be enough. You know you look really handsome in that suit; very James Bond.'

Ianto met his eye. 'I hoped you'd notice,' he said very quietly.

'Alex, you are okay with being here with me, aren't you? I sometimes feel like I've stopped you having a life of your own,' Jack said.

'What? Feeling guilty, Jack. That's not like you. Anyone would think you wanted rid of me.' Alarm suddenly hit him. 'You don't, do you?'

'No, Ianto. I honestly don't know how I'd manage without you now.'

'Good, because I love my job. You've no idea how many people tell me that they envy the time we spend together; men and women who'd do anything to be with you.' Ianto realised things were beginning to get out of hand. He swallowed his brandy.

'Jack, I'm tired and it is after two in the morning. I'm going to go to bed now.'

'Yes, alright, we've got that meeting at 10, haven't we? Goodnight, Alex. Sleep well.'

In his room Ianto sat and stared at the mirror. He put the cufflinks into their box. They were beautiful but … He took out the stopwatch that Jack, or rather Smithy, had bought him and traced his finger over the dragon etched into the cover. Inside their initials I and J were intertwined. It was ironic really that John Smith was Jack Harkness so the initials still applied. Ianto was sure that Jack liked him but he was being such a gentleman. Jack probably assumed that Ianto was straight because he knew that Ianto had been married. Perhaps Ianto needed to let him know that it had been a civil partnership.

'Oh Smithy, I miss you so much,' he said and then turned as he heard the bedroom door open.

'Alex, is everything alright? You seemed a little subdued downstairs,' Jack began.

'No, Jack; but it's nothing really. It's just …'

'I wish you would tell me,' Jack said.

'Do you?' Ianto asked. The stopwatch was dangling through his fingers.

'That's an interesting piece,' Jack said.

'Yes, it was a present.'

'From your wife?'

'Ianto looked up and met Jack's eyes. 'No, from my husband; he had the dragon etched into it for me.' Ianto noted the surprise and then understanding cross Jack's face.

'You shouldn't live in the past, Alex. You need to find someone else, someone who'll love you.' Ianto could hear his breathing speed up. He needed to control it; he needed to control the desire he felt to fling himself into Jack's arms and beg him to make love with him.

'And what about you, Jack? You seem to have lost your ability to love since Gwen, or did you leave it behind in your other life, the one you can't remember?'

'I haven't given up, Alex, well, not completely,' Jack almost whispered.

Now Ianto took a risk and put his hand on Jack's arm. 'Do you feel that there is really someone and that someday you'll find her?'

'Or him!' Jack said looking Ianto straight in the eyes. 'But there's no point in torturing myself.' Ianto's hand remained on the other man's arm.

'But don't you worry that the years are passing and that you might never find love like that again. You may have come so near that person and not even known it, brushed past them in the street. You might even have met this person and never known. Jack, it could even be me!'

'Oh Alex, we both know that couldn't be the case,' Jack said. Ianto got up and turned his back on the other man. He didn't want him to see; he was overwhelmed by how he was feeling and tears were filling his eyes. 'I'm sorry, I'm talking nonsense, I know. It's the early hours of the morning and I'm tired,' he said. 'Maybe I need a holiday. It's been pretty full on over the last few months. Do you know that I've never been out of Britain?'

'This session will be over soon. We could go somewhere then,' Jack said.

'No, it's alright, Sir. I could go with friends. It's been ages since I've seen Owen and Tosh. I knew them back in Wales; she's had the baby now and it would be nice to meet the little one.'

'Alex, I think you're trying to get away from me.' Jack flashed his most charming smile. He realised that he didn't want Alex to go.

'It's not that, Jack. I'm just tired. It's hard keeping up with you sometimes, you know,' he explained.

'Well, if that's what you want. We'll discuss it in the morning. Goodnight, Alex.'

'Goodnight, Jack.' Ianto watched him leave and the tears flowed down his cheeks once more.


	14. Chapter 14

**This is the last chapter. I hope you've enjoyed reading it. If you have a comment would be lovely and HAPPY CHRISTMAS to everyone who has read and commented on my writing this year.**

**Chapter 14**

A few days later Jack drove Ianto to the airport; he was flying to Cardiff to meet up with Owen and staying in Wales for a while before going abroad.

'We're staying in a little village called St Illtyd Fach. We've rented a cottage with a view of the sea. It's lovely there.' Jack's phone beeped.

'It's a text from Nick; there's something going on that they want me to help with.'

'That's my flight being announced,' Ianto said. 'I'll see you in a month.' As Jack watched him walk away, his heart sank. He knew that he was going to miss the young man. He pressed some buttons.

'It's Jack Harkness; I had a text from Head Office. What is it?' he asked. 'Oh I see, the strike in Wales. Yes, my company was interested in buying it once, but my brother decided against it. It's in Cardiff, isn't it? I know the MP is a Liberal, Rob Llewellyn. He's asked specifically for me? Okay, I'll go down there. It's a shame I didn't know earlier; I've just seen Alex Gillespie off on a plane to Cardiff. I'll need to pack and pick up a later flight.'

It took some negotiating but finally the strike was ended and terms agreed, so that both sides were happy with the compromise. The workers gathered to shake Jack's hand and he found himself back in that same pub, the one Ianto had taken him to when they first met, just around the corner from the B&B. There was just something about the place that seemed familiar to him.

'What's up, Jack?' Rob Llewellyn asked. 'You seem a little distracted. You were amazing in there by the way. Mind you, I don't suppose your brother offering to take over the place did any harm.'

'Yes, I won't always be able to do that. Do you know this area well, Rob? I can't remember ever having been here before but it seems familiar. We'd better get going. D'you mind if we walk for a bit? After being stuck in that room all day, I need a little air. We can get a taxi when I get fed up of walking.'

The street outside the pub was a long one. 'That way leads to the hospital,' Rob said, 'and this way into the city.' He patted his pockets as they walked.

'Damn, I left my cigarettes in the factory. I know, filthy habit, but I'm down to less than 10 a day!'

'There's a little shop just around the corner,' Jack said.

'Hang on, I thought that you'd never been here before,' Rob answered, as they turned the corner. Sure enough, there was the shop in front of them.

'Yes, I've been to Cardiff, but only to the city centre.' The point Rob was making struck him; he was right, he'd never been to this part of Cardiff before.

'But that shop,' Rob continued. 'It was off the main road. Why would you know it was there?' Jack just stood and stared. 'You said that there was a little shop around the corner. You must have been here before.' Rob was well aware of Jack's missing past. Jack turned and looked down the road.

'There is something. You mentioned a hospital being down there. I remember a hospital at the end of a long street. It was old fashioned, with a metal gate.'

'The Heath is nothing like that; it's a huge complex with many buildings now, built in the 1960s, although I seem to remember that there was a small place that took patients with various mental disorders; it was called Providence Park. It's closed now, but it's possible that's the one you mean. Everything moved to the Heath itself but I think the old building has been turned into offices. Look, we'll walk back up that way and take a look, shall we?'

Thirty minutes later Jack stood at the gates and stared.

'I came out of here; I know I did. I was wearing a greatcoat. It was foggy and no one saw me. I walked down this road but crowds of workers suddenly came out of the industrial estate and I ducked around the corner into that shop to get out of the way. The woman in the shop kept asking me questions I couldn't answer. I thought that she was going to call the police and that they'd take me back. I remember being scared but someone helped me. I remember that there was a young man who talked to me.'

A couple of days later Ianto was at the B&B in St Illtyd Fach collecting the keys to the cottage. 'I used to live in the village, you know,' Ianto told the youth on reception. 'It was years ago, when Jenny and Alice had this place.'

'Oh yes, they sold the place to my parents. They went somewhere in the North of England, somewhere in Yorkshire called Hebden Bridge; never heard of it myself. Lots of people ask after them. They were quite colourful, I believe.'

'And very kind,' Ianto said. 'My friends will be here tomorrow. Don't worry, I know my way to the cottage.'

'Funnily enough, there was a man here about 15 minutes before you arrived. He said he'd stayed in the cottage as well.'

'Really,' Ianto replied, absentmindedly.

'Yeah, a handsome man with a Scottish accent. He was looking for a cottage by the sea. He described it and I said it sounded like the one we have down the lane. He went to look.'

Ianto held his breath. 'Was he tall and dark haired, with piercing blue eyes and a great smile?' he asked, trying to contain the tremor in his voice.

'I s'pose so,' the boy said nonchalantly. 'Why d'you know him?'

Ianto rushed out. He left his car outside and ran as fast as he could down the lane. As he turned the corner, he could see the cottage and a man at the door.

Jack took the key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door. He stood on the doorstep wondering whether to go in. He heard a noise behind him and turned. Ianto stood at the gate hardly believing his own eyes.

'Smithy,' he cried out. 'It is you!' Jack Harkness turned around and looked at the man at the gate.

'Ianto; you're Ianto Jones, my Ianto.' Jack rushed up the path towards the other man and pulled him into his arms. He smothered him in kisses as if he couldn't bear to leave any part of his face untouched by his lips.

'Oh Ianto, I remembered! I finally put all the pieces together and I remembered! It was you all the time. You're the person I loved; the person I love!'

'Yes, Jack, it was me,' Ianto replied in between kisses.

'You rescued me from that place in Cardiff and brought me here, didn't you.'

'Yes I did, my angel. I always hoped that you'd remember someday. I couldn't just tell you who I was; I was afraid that you'd reject me and I couldn't bear that so I chose to be near you, however I could. I was worried that you might think what I did was strange. Sometimes it was so hard, Jack.'

'I don't care about all that now, Ianto. I love you too. I guess I've always had feelings for you, even when you were Alex. And now, now we shall never be parted,' he said. 'Not now that I've found you again. You want that, don't you?'

'Of course I do; I never want to be without you again, my Smithy. Come on, let's go in.' He winked at Jack and took his hand. 'We've a lot of catching up to do, you and I!'

Jack grinned at him and they walked hand in hand into the cottage and into their future, together.

THE END


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